


Balance of Two Lights

by whenfictioncalls



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Crossover, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25746436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenfictioncalls/pseuds/whenfictioncalls
Summary: Oliver Queen has set off on a suicidal course as he tries to save Star City alone as the Green Arrow while running it as Mayor. Broken and grieving after tragedy, he finds himself running in circles between who he was in the past and who he has become- and who he needs to be in order to be the man that not only his city needs but the people he loves.Kara Danvers, an intrepid reporter who has one of the most influential voices in Star City, wants nothing more than to save her dying city. Willingly challenging the seemingly apathetic Mayor will send her down a path of her finding her true self and embracing it.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Oliver Queen, Kara Danvers/Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance/ Oliver Queen (past)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

A crisp, brisk wind blows hastily into Oliver's face as he pursuits on his motorcycle throughout Star City. After nearly five years of living life as a masked vigilante, coursing through these streets was nothing short of habitual. The chilly breeze from the Pacific just west of him was never cumbersome. It was simply something that Oliver had adapted to.

Living the better part of five years on a near-inhospitable island had it's, well, benefits too. His body was not rejective of dealing with cold temperatures as that was all it knew for so long. As he told a good friend once, when asked why he decided to remove long sleeves from his night suit— _he doesn't get cold._ Of course, considering the risks of having his bare arms exposed to the ammunition and weaponry that he is around with the hood on, he covered his arms once again.

He takes a deep breath before stepping off his bike. He knew he needed to channel in all of the emotions he was feeling. He had to compartmentalize— or else he was going to find himself killed. He could not think about any of the stresses that were going on outside of now. It was the mentality that he found himself in on a nightly basis.

His bow was sat along with the handles of his bike, the drawstring clinging on to the rubber. He swiftly removes it and leans it to his side as he closely inched towards the target that he was chasing. It was a basic drug operation— a small one at that. After defeating the most prominent crime lord in Star City mere weeks ago, the drug scene was being kept at a minimum. Especially with the Green Arrow roaming the streets with a license to kill anyone trying to make more business selling narcotics illegally.

Oliver presses a hidden button on the left side of his chest, initiating contact with the woman who stood on the other side of the communications device. He heard the feedback coming from her end, cuing him to begin speaking. "How many am I dealing with, Felicity?"

"Looks like five in total, two of them being armed." She informs him, pausing before speaking her next sentence. "Are you sure you can take on this many at once?"

Oliver sighs, taking the not-so-subtle hint of Felicity's fear of him fighting by his lonesome. She had not really been trying to hide these sentiments lately, so the comment didn't take him by surprise.

"I took down Church and his men fine on my own. I can handle this in my sleep."

"Be careful."

"I always am."

Oliver runs towards the deal firing, shooting his first arrow at the block of drugs in the dealer's hand The next penetrates the gun of one of the armed men. They see him as he begins to charge closer and closer to where they stood, and the other gunman begins to fire, missing Oliver multiple times. He shoots another arrow, this time nailing the man firing at him square in the chest. Oliver was not only very skilled with a bow but highly trained in combat. He was too quick for their slow punches and in relation of the way he kicked and threw punches of his own, they were like flys trying to avoid the inevitable traps of honey. He felt the weight of his elbow against one of their foreheads, knocking them out cold. He pierced a loose arrow through the thigh of one of the dealers who had his arm tightly around his neck. He kicked the final one at an adequate distance to fire one final arrow at his chest.

He took a look around at the bodies around him, three unconscious, one in immense pain, and two on the brink of death. He wanted to claim self-defense— and he would probably have a lot of validation in that. But the sight of two men fighting for their last breath sent an empathetic shiver down his spine and a remorseful snapshot into the depths of his memories. _Some "hero" he is—_ the mantra rings through his consciousness as he hears wailing sirens in the distance, cuing his departure from the scene.

As he trekked back to his bunker, he tried his best to keep the thoughts of the men he killed buried in the depths of his unwanted thoughts. He hated killing. He detested the resort to murder that had become such a common method that it was inveterate. He was all by himself out in the field, he couldn't risk giving anyone an opening for a cheap shot in a vulnerable area. The unfortunate truth was that he still felt the weight of every man he ever killed's death. He still saw the fatal blows that he gave, whether it be an arrow forced through the heart or shot through it.

He still felt remorse towards the man his who took everything from him and threatened to destroy the city that he loved. He heard the last breath of a man who was enriched in his wicked hubris and adamant on his evil ways. Even in Oliver's satisfaction, he felt every ounce ofthis wretched excuse of a human being's demise.

And he _hated it._

He enters the bunker through a garage door, taking his biking helmet off and setting it over the handles. He begins to unzip his jacket as he walks through the bunker, joining Felicity on the platform that rested in the center of the massive space that the two of them had been operating out of. They had only spent a year in this jazzed up lair, but it was slowly beginning to feel like home.

There was a certain vibe to Felicity that told Oliver to prepare for some kind of questioning. Whether it be on the mission or some kind of personal matter or observation she felt the need to comment on, he anticipated the inquisition as he stopped in his tracks behind her rolling chair.

"Oliver, you were uncharacteristically quiet on coms on your ride back," Felicity begins empathetically. She stares at her computer screen for a moment before turning around in her chair to face him. "Is everything okay?"

He raises his eyebrows and looks up at her quickly as if she had caught him off guard. He nods, initiating a knowing glare from Felicity as she sees through his facade. She stands up and places her hands over his crossed forearms. "It's just you and me down here. I need you to tell me when something's bothering you."

"It's nothing." He smiles at her assuringly, feeling his heart sink at the look of distrust on her face after he finishes. He places his hand tenderly on her shoulder as he takes a step to walk in the other direction. "I'll be back after this benefit dinner is finished."

She smiles faintly as he begins to walk away. "You'll be back to tell me what's bothering you or you'll be back to wait for a drug operation to magically appear?"

"Hopefully, the latter."

Oliver's hesitancy to share did not come as a surprise to Felicity. It always felt easier to allow his inner thoughts and feelings to stay circling around his conscience as opposed to actually letting someone in on his darkest sentiments. As unhealthy as it was, it was apart of him that the people he loved begrudgingly accepted— for now at least.

He trades his suit of green leather for a suit of navy-dyed wool with a United States flag pinned in the fabric above his heart. This was the suit he wore in the light of day, just as he had sought out to do when he started his mayoral campaign. Being the Green Arrow, hiding in the shadows wasn't enough, so he did what he could to become Mayor.

And along as a lot of the things that Oliver Queen sets his mind to do, it happened. But in the midst of swearing into office, he lost three limbs. Well, not _literal_ limbs, but he lost three members of the team that was supposed to make the balance of being the Mayor as well as a vigilante easier, handicapping what he could accomplish in city hall as most of his focus went to the streets. The public did not take well to this apparent apathy and uncaring attitude that was primarily portrayed through the media as well as the constant missing of public appearances from the Mayor.

So, as with most of his Mayoral appearances, he anticipated being bombarded with ludicrous claims and questions of his administration.

He pulls his suit together, fastening the top button on the bottom as he walks through the doors of City Hall. A familiar sight of flashing cameras blinds his vision as he tries to navigate through the press crowding his space. Microphones and recording devices smother his face before the men in his security detail surround and shield him from the ammunition that was the media. To say that this particular breed of Star City citizens wasn't gunning for his throat and trying to use his mayoral shortcomings as a means for clicks and views would be an astronomical distance from the truth. They are thirsty for the quenching satisfaction of demoralizing Oliver's leadership and his administration.

Even though his training had been to let them ramble and ask him pressing questions without an answer, he felt irrationally compelled to turn around and give an answer when asked about the growing issues in weapons deals on the street and why his administration did nothing about it. He gave the crowd a charming smile as if it was a cue for them to quiet down. He stood atop a flight of stairs as the awaited an answer at the bottom of the set.

"What am I going to do about it?" Oliver asks, condescension blaring from not only his tone but the expressions across his face. The dissonant harmony of fallible suggestions was untranslatable before a simple shrug of Oliver's shoulders quiets them down. "When I'm not having to personally weed out the corruption amongst the men and women supposed to protect our streets, I will be able to give each of you a better answer."

The crowd gets louder as he turns around and walks up the final flight of stairs, meeting a discerned and disappointed face from the woman he knows as his sister.

"You do realize that you just openly discredited the police force at a benefit dinner _for_ the SCPD, right?" Thea whispers into his ear as they begin walking towards a calmer crowd. The appointed tone of voice struck Oliver's right mind as he realized he fucked up in his response.

He chuckles nervously, letting out a smug grin to begin an attempt to ease the mind of his sister moonlighting as his chief of staff. "That'll do great for my approval ratings, right?"

" _God_ , I wish it would," Thea responds with a hint of desperation. She checks the time on her phone, looking back at Oliver with the same scorning dissatisfaction across her lips. "Being 30 minutes late definitely won't bode well either."

He glares at her knowingly, pressing his lips together tightly before opening up the corner to speak lowly. "I had a more pressing matter to attend to, _Speedy."_

 _"_ Maybe if you got a new team together like Felicity has been begging you to do for months, you would be able to spend more time _here."_ She mimics his discrete way of speaking.

"I can't take that risk Thea," his words become icy as does his demeanor. "You know why."

Thea watches as the partial smile on his face drops with his eyes as his thoughts go to the one thing they've had trouble departing from over the last few months. Like always, she didn't fully know how to react. Sometimes he was accepting of her empathy and other times he became so cold that he turned into stone— just standing there, motionless as he fell back into the pits of his grieving despair. Looking like he was leaning towards the latter, she flashes him an assuring smile.

"I'll stop pressing for now," she begins. She places her hand gently over his bicep, asking him in desperation. "But _please_ take it into consideration." He forces a smile and nods before leading Thea towards the awaiting guests.

Laurel Lance.

He felt her presence every time he was in city hall. His " _why_." She was the district attorney, so a lot of their visits began here. Whether it be to discuss their vigilante matters or to soar off on their various dates— they greeted each other in the building, in this very area to be exact. Often times he wonders how their life would've been with him as Mayor and her keeping criminals locked up as the city's top prosecutor. They already kept the city safe with one another as the Green Arrow and Black Canary, but if they both were high ranking city officials? They could save the city on multiple fronts, together.

And that was always the plan. They often talked about it when Oliver's initial mayoral campaign began. All of the ways that they could protect the city that they loved together— and boy, did they love this city. Almost as much as they loved each other. But a homicidal maniac plotting to level the world got in the way of these plans— he put an arrow through Laurel's side and she died. Oliver watched as the woman he loved took her last breath and left this world. She lost her life. He lost his world.

He avenged her death. Eventually putting an arrow through her killer's chest. This came with a cost, however— sending him spiraling down into a battle methodology that once again involved killing. He was so buried in his anger and darkness that he couldn't see the light— because, well, he lost the woman who shined that light for him. So here he found himself, lonely, broken, angry— damaged once again. Which was exactly how Laurel found him.

He shakes off the thought, forcing a smile as he goes to shake the hands of important city officials. The police captain, of course; a few city councilmen, the rich folk who were putting money into a corruption filled police force. The truth of the matter is that Oliver didn't want any of this night to happen, as he didn't believe in the necessity of funding cops who weren't doing their jobs. But his political strategists along with Thea thought that showing Star City some form of devotion in a public appearance may get more people on his side— because that number was very minimal these days.

He goes to grab a glass of champagne, his hand being met by a woman doing the same motion. They apologize in harmony, turning to look at one another as they do so. The woman was strong in stature. Her blonde hair was pulled back neatly and her emerald eyes touched with the blue sea hid behind a pair of glasses. A press badge hung from a lanyard around her neck, forcing a long sigh out of Oliver's system.

"I thought I had lost all of your kind back at the stairs." His words came out in the kindest way that he could manage but the expressions across his face yelled annoyance. The woman smiled, catching Oliver off guard as it gleamed along with her eyes. There was a tenderness to it that he was all but expecting. Her tone as she responded matched this demeanor.

"I'd like to think that being the editor-in-chief at the Inquirer gets me some kind of passage," she reaches her hand out as his eyes widen, realizing the woman that he was speaking to. Her grip was firm upon him grasping onto her palm, once again taking Oliver by surprise. She flashes her warm smile once again while saying, "I'm Kara Danvers."

Oliver forces a smile, knowing the facade that he had to put up for the woman who had been gunning at his administration since he took office. There was something, however, that led him to believe that putting up the front he typically put on while speaking with journalists wouldn't work on this woman. He shakes her hand and places his other softly around their enclasped hands. "It's nice to finally put a face to the name, _Ms. Danvers."_

"Glad to finally speak to you in person, Mr. Mayor."

Her fortitude cut right through the barrier he had set in an attempt to make himself seem more courteous. Yet, instead of feeling himself revert to the autonomous rigidity of his mannerisms, the cordial front became more genuine as he continued to converse with her. She had this gentle kindness about her that softened his demeanor.

"I was surprised by your comment about corruption in the force," she begins. He cocks an eyebrow as if he was caught off guard by her bringing up this topic. "I'd almost consider it ballsy if I knew you weren't going to retract that statement in a press conference tomorrow morning."

He chuckles. "And what makes you think that I would do that?""Everything you say is fed to you on a silver spoon. The moment you slip up and say how you really feel, it's written all over your face that you _know_ you said something you weren't supposed to."

"Your point?"

She smiles despite her impatience, placing her glass of champagne on a table behind her. She folds her arms over her chest before responding. "Don't you think that the people of the city deserve better than a disingenuous leader who cares more about his public appearance than actually helping this city?"

Oliver purses his lips while he processes the words she spoke to him. His more impulsive habits told him to jump to his own defense. What else was he supposed to do? His approval ratings were way below what he needed them to be and the only way that he could get them up is the get the public and the city's organizations behind him.Yet, it was the passion that exuded from this woman's voice that made him second guess his impulsions. There was an urgency, a dedication seeping through the poignance of her words that told him that what she said came from her heart. It seemed as if it stemmed from a genuine desire to make Star City better.

He looked to his feet before looking back into the woman's eyes, who were seeking an adequate response. He presses his lips together tightly while grimacing.

"I do want to help this city, Ms. Danvers." He tells her with deep honesty.

She smiles in response, an understanding radiating from eyes that should be discontent with what or who they saw in front of them. She steps closer to him. "And how are you going to show? Bailing on city council meetings and press conferences won't do it."

"Come by my office tomorrow morning," he begins, immediately thinking about the chastising that was to come from his sister from this decision. "And I will show _you_. On the record of course."

A satisfied grin slowly forms across her lips and she nods with content. She reaches her hand out once again. "I'll see you then, _Mr. Mayor."_

"I'll be looking forward to it."


	2. Mayor Pretty

The strong aura of fermented fruit enriches Kara's nostrils as she brings a glass to the tip of her lips. The scent brightens the flavor of the liquid tapping her tastebuds fervently. As she brings the bowl away from her face, she smiles at the joke that had just been made by here sister across from her. It was these moments that Kara treasured most. It was not just the taste of pristine wine from the other side of the world, thanks to Alex's unconventional job, but the person that she got to share the moment with.

Her employment took her to countries ranging from Kasnia, China, to even Italy-- the country they were now celebrating her return from. Anytime that she came home from a business trip, they would sit on Kara's couch and sip wine as Alex raved about sights that she saw. Kara would catch her up on the happenings of Star City when she was away, and who better to do so than the woman who is constantly getting tips on the slightest of news.

Sometimes their conversations leaned more into the politics of the city and the frustrations that they had with the leadership, or lack thereof, that has put this city in the death trap that it found itself in now. Even before four years of terrorist attacks nearly destroyed Star City, it was already laying on its death bed and its administrators only ailed in its downfall. They were always painful conversations.

Kara and Alex grew up in Star City. When Kara was adopted by the Danvers, she was put in the city's school system along with Alex and they both stayed in it until they graduated. Alex went off to National City for her undergraduate and graduate studies and Kara stayed in Star City and attended the local university. Even though she was not born here, it had become her home. The city claimed her as their own as she did the city.

Alex eventually made her way back home and landed her job doing research for the government, who's base of operations was in Star City. She was always very scarce with the details of her employment, only giving Kara minute details about what she did. But Kara believed that she was doing good so she never really questioned her. This trust and belief in one another was always something that both of them held cherished about their relationship.

The laughter resonating from Alex's joke slowly faded as they both sat their glasses down. Alex swished the remaining liquid around the bowl fluently as she cocked an inquisitive eyebrow in Kara's direction. "Did you get that quote from the Mayor that you were looking for?"

"No," Kara sighs as shakes her head. She rubs her thumb against the smooth edges of the glass as she ponders back on the interaction she had with the Mayor meer hours ago. "I ended up getting too caught in my criticism that I didn't even get the question." She raises her forehead as a more positive thought crosses her mind and a smug grin begins to form across her lips. "He did invite me to his office for an interview though."

Alex had been taking a sip of her drink as she said that and quickly swallowed to interject. "He did?" Kara nods. Alex scoffs with disgust before dwelling in her next taste. "He's probably just trying to get in your pants."

"Hell, if he is that's something to put in an article." Kara retorts with a shrug of her shoulders, getting an honest chuckle out of Alex. She brings her attention to the table and into the deep purple abyss that was her wine. She thinks more about the nature of their conversation, not reading it the same way that Alex perceived it. She looks back to Alex. "But what if we're wrong about him, Alex?"

"How so?"

She presses her lips together as she thinks more on her own thoughts before continuing pointedly. "Maybe he isn't as uncaring and detached as we think he is."

"Kara," Alex begins, trying to keep an understanding tone for Kara."He misses important meetings, public appearances, probably fucking who knows how many women in the process?"

She watches the light of hope slowly dissipate from her eyes. "I know how badly you want this city to finally have competent leadership. I do too. But blindly hoping in someone like Oliver Queen to be the savior that this city needs is way too idealistic-- even for you."

Kara smiles half-heartedly in the realization that Alex was more than likely right. However, the scope of her and the Mayor's conversation was still very real in Kara's mind. There was nothing sensual or suggestive about his mannerisms or tone of voice. Maybe it was the childlike hope in her that inferred the sincerity in his words. She could not let go of that thought.

"Even if you're right, I feel like I should still go in with an open mind and hear him out." Kara begins with hesitance. "If he's who you think he is, I can bury him. If he's not, I can shed some light on him and start getting the city behind him."

Alex smiles in awe of her sister's optimism and altruistic attitude. She takes a finishing swig of her wine before walking over to Kara and wrapping her arms around the front of her body. She leans the side of her face against her temple. "Please never lose your compassion, Kara." She pulls her head away so she can look Kara in the eyes as she says her next words. "That alone could save this city."

Kara smiles as she pulls Alex's head back into the side of hers, closing her eyes as she relishes in the time that she had with her favorite person. With her working longer hours and Alex traveling the world with her job, these moments were scarce as of lately. So it was incredibly important for her to live in the time that she got with her. Her past taught her lessons about how quickly her life could change and how time with her loved ones could be taken from her in an instant— so she never took time for granted. She thrived in it.

They spent the rest of the night talking about Alex's trip, well, work endeavor, to Italy. Kara couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of the sights and experiences she spoke of, as her job very rarely took her out of Star City. Yet she still listened, smiled, and laughed with Alex simply enjoying the company. It was amazing to Kara how well she could tell a compelling story all the while sparing her the details of her actual work. Sometimes she would think about asking exactly what she was doing over there. She had an idea, however, of the same bullshit deflection techniques that Alex had mastered over the years of working at the research facility that she did. It was something she'd just gotten used to.

When it came Kara's turn to catch her up on what was going on in Star City, she didn't really have _much_ to say. It had been pretty quiet as of lately. A major drug operation led by a crime lord named Tobias Church was the talk of the city for months until Star City's vigilante took him down by his lonesome. Ever since, the news had been pretty quiet, opening up an avenue for more of the same political assassination of the city's Mayor.

Kara had been covering him since he put his name in the running for Mayor just a year ago. Coming in as a known playboy and a college dropout, Oliver Queen held very little credibility when it came to running a city. But somehow with his irresistible charm and a shocking ability to unite the city when it mattered, he was elected.

Kara never spoke kindly about his candidacy. She believed it to be a muse for public attention and more light on the Queen family name, as it had gotten lost since his family lost their multi-million dollar corporation. He sported that deviously ravishing smile to the cameras, shook every person's hand down the street, and said the words that everyone wanted to hear. It's no wonder the city gravitated towards his potential leadership. Kara thought that she saw through this ruse of his, constantly undermining the public vote and saying that the city needs to think more critically when it comes to their leaders. She believed his "policies" to be jargon written by strategists to make him seem appealing.

So when he got in office and suddenly wasn't keeping his promises, the city bought more into what Kara was trying to say. When she wrote articles about him missing a council meeting, citing it under titles like _Mayor Pretty Misses Important Council Meeting— Are We Surpised?,_ the people listened. His approval rates tanked.

Yet, upon meeting "Mayor Pretty," there was a sense of regret and remorse as she looked back on all of her write-ups about this screw-up that she had idealized him as. When he told her that he wanted to help this city, she felt it. It fueled the ever-burning desire instilled within her that wanted to save this city because the weight of his words held the same fire. She looked into his eyes and believed that he spoke from the depths of his heart.

So the thought that she has possibly misjudged him all of these months haunts her. It keeps her mind pacing long after Alex fell asleep drunk on her couch and throughout the night as she tried to sleep. She never sought out to make him seem like someone he wasn't. She always tried to see the best in the people that she encountered but there was something autonomous inside of her that led her to be hypercritical of Oliver Queen. She felt as if she was protecting Star City by shedding light on his faults—-and there is a reasonable chance that she was.

But Kara knew that she owed it, not only to Star City but to Mayor Queen himself, to find out what kind of man he really was and if he could truly be the one to save this city.If he was, she couldn't wait to write about it. If he wasn't, she'd have the unfortunate responsibility of driving the first nail in the coffin of his administration.

••

The sun seeps in through the windows of City Hall, radiating off the tile floors and sending a warm greeting to Kara as she walks through the lobby doors. She smiles at the staff members who glare at her while she makes her way to the main floor. Press were never welcomed near politicians, even high profile editors like Kara, so she wasn't the least bit surprised by the concerning stares she got from people as she walked by.

When she walked into the main hall she was greeted by a woman sitting behind a desk, asking if she had an appointment. She showed her identification and told the woman she assumed was Mayor Queen's secretary that she had a nine-o-clock with the man himself. She gave Kara the same look daggers before leading her towards his office. She flashed her the same smile she had given everyone else as she left her alone to patiently wait for the man who was supposed to meet her here.

Of course, it didn't reflect well that the person who _asked_ her to interview him was late to his own appointment. Especially when he was the one attempting to change her perspective on him. But being the gracious person she was, Kara stood in the large space and waited for him to finally make an appearance. She paced slowly along the side of his desk, incidentally knocking over a picture frame on the floor with her purse.

"Shit—" she grimaces exaggeratively before squatting on the floor to pick up the black wooden memorabilia she caused to hit the ground. She scanned the frame all around to make sure that she didn't break or crack any part of it. As she sighed in the relief of lack of damage, she takes a quick glance at the photo that set on his desk. It was Mayor Queen with two other people— a man, who looked about his age and a beautiful woman that stood in between them. They looked to be at some sort of holiday party.

She couldn't help but notice the effervescent smile on the younger face of the Mayor. Of course, she'd seen the politician's grin that he wore for the cameras on so many occasions. But she had never seen such a genuine and kind gleam, dimples and all, come from the fairly neutral Mayor. He really did have a beautiful smile.

She heard the door open behind her and she shot up, turning around to the Mayor staring at her with furrowed eyebrows. Kara almost simultaneously begins to stutter nervously.

"I accidentally knocked this over," she tells him, shoving the frame in his direction as he raises his eyebrows in realization. He looks down at the picture and grins. It was a subtle, broken showing of bliss. She walks towards him and shows him a more fervent smile. "It's a nice picture."

"They were nice people." His smile grows while trading looks between Kara and the photo. He chuckles slightly. "The _best_ actually." He swiftly shifts around her, placing the photo back on the corner of his desk. He reaches his hand out to her and shifts his lips upwards warmly. "Thank you for coming. Sorry I was running a little late."

"No problem," Kara says as she takes his hand, placing her other over his knuckles and shaking his hand cordially. "Sorry for knocking your picture over."

He laughs as he firmly grips her palm before pulling away. "It's not a big deal."

He leads her to a sofa that wasn't set too far from his desk. There was an irony to his presence— as so many of his staff had been fairly abrasive in their looks of disdain and greets, while he had this amiable aura about him as he led her through his office and sat her down. His eyes didn't tell a different story than his mannerisms and his tone of voice was soft and tender. It didn't feel like an act.

They sat on opposite sides of the leather seating. She felt herself becoming nervous, mostly from the evergrowing doubt in her mind that Mayor Queen was the abhorrent prick she had characterized him for months.

"I appreciate you coming in, Ms. Danvers." He tells her firmly. He sits up straight and rests his hands on his knees. "I know you haven't necessarily been in support of me in the last year."

Kara looks down in guilt while shaking her head. "I think that's putting it lightly." 

"Oh, it definitely is." 

The two share a moment of laughter as Kara brings her attention back to him. It eased Kara's mind that he did not seem to take her criticisms of him personally and was speaking of them openly with her. Most of the people she wrote degrading articles about weren't so chippy about the words that they had to say about them, so Mayor Queen being so light about what she had said was a welcomed surprise. 

Kara keeps the smile on her face as she tries to redirect the conversation to what she intended it to be walking in. "Why did you run for office, Mayor Queen? I know I've heard the answer you've given the cameras but what was your _real_ reason for running?" 

"Well," Oliver's blissful laugh slowly became one of nervousness. He grins with his lips before responding. "I was away for five years, as you probably already knew." She nods while she listens attentively. "And when I came back this city was a shell of what I remembered it as. And I sat by and watched it continuously give in to terrorism, corruption, and leaders unwilling to help those who are struggling," he takes a deep breath before finishing, 

"And I couldn't just stand idly by anymore. I wanted to step up in the light and try to be the change that this city needed." 

Kara was astonished by the sincerity that was not only glaringly obvious in his words but the evident passion residing in his voice. She believed the intentions of every word that he said. Her reservations, however, due to his lack of action still were a very real thing existing in her mind. So she pressed on. 

"Without any political experience though?" Kara asks, sounding off on his response. "Granted, those are all fantastic reasons to run. But how did you intend on making real changes as a mayor when you didn't even graduate from college?" 

He clears his throat. "I think the city needed someone to stand up for them in the light of day. And I felt like I had the capability to do that." 

"What about now though?" Kara feels her tone becoming more pressing. "You have made a lot of promises with very little action. The city needs more than just your facade of leadership. It needs you actively making changed behind doors to." He begins to give a defensive statement but she cuts him off. 

"I don't think you can do that while missing council meetings, not making public appearances, and spending very little time at that desk."

The astonishment quickly transferred from Kara's to the Mayor's face as he was at a loss for words. There wasn't contempt in his eyes, however, just an ashamed look of understanding.

He purses his lips together as his eyes trail the room around him. Guilt suddenly comes over Kara as she felt like she had gotten too harsh. She was still convicted in her thoughts yet she felt as if she may have been too grating. 

She begins to smile apologetically before Oliver begins to speak.

"You're right." He tells her bluntly. "I've been prioritizing other things over my duties _here."_ He looks to the ground below him as he gathers his next thought, immersing himself in remorse and only making Kara feel worse for putting him in that state. He brings his attention back to her, a determination in his expressions in words. "I will save this city, Ms. Danvers." He smiles. "I just need some time and grace to do it." 

"Grace I can give you," Kara responds kindly. "Time, however, I don't think is on your side. What do you really want to do for this city?" 

Oliver looks at her pointedly. "For starters, make the streets safer. Weed out the corruption in the police force and have some sort of law enforcement on the streets that I personally know that I can trust." He feeds off her approval and continues with more confidence. "In general, I want to make this city a more desirable place to live. Give more funding to the school systems, provide more job opportunities in areas with more poverty like the Glades. That way we can slowly start rebuilding this city from the ground up." 

He pauses for a moment and stares out the window that scaled the walls around them. He looks out onto the view of the city as he finishes. "I said when I started campaigning last year that I wanted to unite the people of the city--" He brings his eyes back to Kara, hope glaring right at her in a way she'd never felt. "-- and that is one-hundred percent still my intention." 

"And how exactly do you plan on doing all of this?" Kara asks with more cordiality in her tone than criticism. "Those are some big promises." 

Oliver presses his lips together, tilting his head to the side as if he agreed with her point. "I'm going to start working daily on getting policies in order. It'll be a lot easier once I have my staff set in stone to help guide me." His voice lowers and his tone becomes a little wearier. "I'm on my own right now outside of my sister and a few strategists who followed me from the old office." 

"I get that." Kara nods empathetically. She smiles as she presents her recording device to him, turning it off to signal that she was officially off the record. "If it's any help, I think forming some sort of task force built from law enforcers you know that you can trust would help immensely on the crime front." 

Oliver raises an eyebrow. "Not bad thinking. Maybe take away some of the SCPD's funding and put it towards staffing and equipping that force." 

"What's the point of funding the SCPD when they're not doing their jobs?" Kara adds. 

Oliver laughs. "God, it sickens me that _that_ is a reality." 

"It was happening before you were even in office," Kara begins. "We were tying high ranking officers to drug operations dating back to last December. It's Pike's fault for letting it get this bad." 

"And he has been no help in diluting the corruption that he's enabled," he shakes his head as his tone becomes angrier. "Taking a good portion of their funding may be the kick in the ass his department needs." 

Kara nods in concurrence. She stands up from the couch slowly, smiling as she reaches out her hand to once again take his. "I think I have all I need to know, Mayor Queen." 

"To what? Bury me again?" He takes her hand without shaking it. 

Kara laughs. "Just the opposite actually." 

"What?" He begins with a slight surprise. "My admitting to incompetence _won't_ mark the end of my administration?" 

"I think it marks the beginning of it." Kara winks while firmly shaking his hand.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, nervously smiling and bringing his attention to the floor below them. He shifts his hands into his pockets as he walks with her to the door. "Thanks for the task force idea, by the way." 

"It was a suggestion based on the words you already told me," she tells him, turning to face him as she reaches the doors to exit his office. "I was wrong about you, Mayor Queen. I apologize for anything ill-willed I have said in the past." 

He furrows his eyebrows and looks at her with sincerity. "Don't apologize. You were just trying to help the city and I commend you for it. Star City is lucky to have you as one of it's finest, Ms.Danvers." 

"It's lucky to have you too, _Mayor Queen._ " She looks at him with forced contempt. "And _please_ , call me Kara." 

He smiles fondly. "Call me Oliver then."


	3. Two Paths Converge

Oliver took a seat at his desk, staring blankly at a stack of files that rested in the corner. Within those manila folders rested potential members of a special task force that was in the midst of being set in place. After meeting with Kara Danvers a few weeks ago, he had begun the slow and steady process of recruiting and finding clean and competent officers who would work closely with him to not only keep the streets safe but begin eliminating corruption in the SCPD from the inside. He sat down after the meeting and wrote out a list of all of the things that he wanted and needed to accomplish. Getting the funding and approval for this force was at the top of this list.

He was trying to take more initiative in his role as mayor, albeit the difficulties in juggling his time at City Hall with his time under the hood. Even after just a week, he could feel himself being stretched too thin. He had no physical help out in the field. Thea and he were still ankle-deep in their search of high ranking city officials to aid him in policy making. The drive and motivation he felt after speaking with Kara were slowly fading.

The right part of his conscience kept telling him to listen to Thea and Felicity's nagging and start recruiting a new team to help with his night job on the streets. Yet he kept replaying the night that Laurel died in his mind, along with all of the many conversations he had with her just a year or so before that night when he would tell her that he did not think that she was ready to be out in the field. But Laurel, being the strong and persistent woman that she was, didn't listen. She was going to do it with or without her partner's blessing. So he stopped trying to get in her way.

He ended up being right. She wasn't ready.

Now here he stood alone. Not just without a team but without his anchor, the person who made the rough times better.

The pain of it all forged a belief in him that it was better this way. That it was meant to be this way. This pain of his wasn't a temporary burden- it was an eternally stagnant boulder resting on his shoulders. He'd never rid of it. . . and he's not supposed to. So he kept trudging forward in the misery,

_Alone._

He picked up the first file off of his desk and began to flip through it. Thea had sent each of these candidates through her own rigorous screenings, background checks, and interviews, leaving the final decision to Oliver on whether or not they would get through. He aided in this vetting as much as he could but he trusted in Thea's discretion almost more than he did his own. So if they were in this stack, there is a solid chance that they were going to be on the force.

Just as he finished reading through Thea's analysis on the first candidate, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Basing his assumption on the time of night, he sighed as he had a good idea of who was calling and why she needed him. He stood up to take the call and began to walk out as Felicity told him where he was needed. They had been tracking a potential weapons dealer and she had gotten a solid lead on his whereabouts. And as he always did, he exited city hall without notice to swap his suit for the night.

He swiftly went back to the bunker to put his hood and leather on, getting the last bit of intel from Felicity in the amount of time it took him to get dressed. She was a quick talker. He was a good listener. He supplied his quiver with enough arrows to take down at least fifteen men, along with the specialty arrows to aid him in a desperate situation. He wasn't expecting this to be more than a recon mission with a possibility of engaging if he deemed it necessary. But as always, he was prepared.

He made his way to the location, channeling his focus as he sped through the streets. He scanned the area as he approached it, finding a place of higher ground to squat and listen. There was a large shipping container not far from where six to seven men were standing in a circle conversing. He took his place there and searched for any indication of weapons being sold.

He saw a crate sitting in the middle of the men and there was no buyer in sight. He weighed his options on whether or not to take a shot. He would be outnumbered once he reached the ground level to engage. However, these men more than likely weren't great shots. He could swing down there, get them all down, and ask one of them for information. All the while ending a weapons trade before it even started- an easy and worthwhile mission in his perspective.

He pulled out an incendiary arrow and aimed it at the crate, giving Felicity a quick heads up that he was engaging. Despite her immediate protests, he shot the arrow and set the crate of what looked like guns on fire. The men turned around and began shooting at him, missing terribly. He leaped down in dramatic fashion and took out multiple regular arrows from his quiver. He shot three of the men down in one single pulling of his drawstring.

The men without guns charged him. He took one out with an arrow to the leg and engaged the others in swappings of kicks and punches. He was able to use one as leverage to pull himself above the others as he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, kicking the others directly in the forehead and sending them into a state of disorientation. He took the final man to the ground with him and held him in a chokehold.

He clenched his forearm and bicep around his throat as a threat of sorts, yelling angrily as he said, "who's your buyer?" The man did not respond, forcing Oliver to take an arrow from his quiver to the man's chest. The sound coming from him was one with agony, immediately filling Oliver with remorse.

"Two more inches and this goes through your heart," Oliver warns with menace. "Now tell me who was buying these weapons."

"I don't know, man! I don't know!" The man remarks in fear. Oliver can feel him begin to tremble in his arm, only making him feel worse about how the situation has escalated. The man continues, "I just know that someone paid him to come to Star City."

Oliver believed that he wasn't holding back the truth. He forced the air out of him enough to where he passed out and fell at his feet. The men that were once disoriented were once again charging back at him. He shot one of them in his leg, leaving him on the ground like the others. He threw an elbow at the other one, giving him a few harsh punches to his nose and jaw before he inevitably fell to the ground out cold. He took a quick glance at the scene of incapacitated men around him before running back to his bike to escape the incoming SCPD.

"That was so incredibly stupid and reckless," Felicity begins to ramble the moment the elevator door opens and Oliver gets his first glimpse of the bunker. He rolls his eyes before making his way to the display case that holds his suit. He begins to undress while she continues to ramble. "You were outnumbered. You went in with no plan whatsoever."

Oliver lets out a drawn-out sigh as he unzips his jacket. He hears the clacking of Felicity's heels come closer to him yet he doesn't turn around. He continues to strip off layers, eventually getting back into the white tee he was wearing under his button-up shirt just an hour ago.

Her tone grows impatient as she is continually unacknowledged. She stands directly behind him and takes his wrist forcibly. He turns his head in her direction. "I'm not doing this one-sided conversation thing we always do when you get back from the field." She tugs his wrist and he turns around as if on cue. He does not look her in the eye as she stares at him with concern. "Why did you engage?"

"I saw an opportunity to end the deal before it started. And I did," Oliver tells her pointedly. "All of the men have been apprehended by the SCPD and the weapons were destroyed."

"But we still don't know who the buyer is, Oliver-"

"Felicity!" Oliver interjects abrasively, causing her to step back. "I think stopping lethal weapons from getting on our streets is slightly more important than getting recon on a buyer." He walks towards the table he stores his arrows and gadgets at and begins to unload the arrows he didn't use.

She didn't follow him. She simply stared at him from a distance in contempt. He could feel her glares burning the back of his head.

"You really just want to do this alone, don't you?" She utters with brokenness in her voice that Oliver didn't expect. He turns around to see her eyes filled with tears as she walked closer to him.

"What do you mean?"

"You won't listen to my asking, my pleading of you to start finding a new team." Her voice raises. "Hell, you won't even listen to me when I'm trying to make sure that you don't jump into a suicide mission!" She stops to take a breath and stifle the cries that are trying to leave her system. "We hardly even speak like friends anymore."

"I don't know how to get through to you, Oliver. " He immediately softens as he watches tears fall down her face. He makes his way to her and attempts to console her by placing his hands around her shoulders. She pulls away and throws her hands up in defense and he backs away to give her space. She looks away as she cannot make contact with his eyes to say her next words. "Your stubbornness is going to get you killed. Your unwillingness to let anyone in is going to leave you all alone

And I can't watch you throw your whole life away."

"Felicity," Oliver begins to fight against his trembling lip. "I can't even sleep in my own bed anymore because every time I try, I think about Laurel. I sleep on my couch. And even then, I don't sleep because I keep seeing the love of my life bleed out in my arms over and over again." He presses his lips together as he tries to keep the reservoir in his eyes from flooding his cheeks. His words come out shakily as he finishes. "Do you really think that I am ready to train somebody to take her place? Let alone allow more people into my crusade that's gotten people I love killed?

"You won't even let _me_ in, Oliver!" Felicity steps towards him. He brings his attention back to the ground in an attempt to shield her from seeing the grief that shattered his face. She places an assuring hand on his forearm. She tries to muster up as much strength as she could to say her next words to Oliver. These were the ones that she so desperately wanted to stick in his mind. "You can do whatever the hell you want to do. But until you're ready to _truly_ move forward, I can't stay here and enable you to wallow in your suffering."

"How am I going to do this without you?" Oliver utters lowly, only making it more difficult for Felicity to walk away.

She takes the palm of her hand to his cheek, gracing it lightly with her sincere touch. They stand in silence for a moment before she finally tells him, "If you do the right thing, you won't have to." She then goes to grab her things, taking a longing but empathetic look at Oliver before walking into the elevator. She forces a pressed smile as the doors close and she's no longer to be seen.

Oliver turns back and stares at the arrows, knives, gas grenades that feel like the only thing that he has left. The premise of the sight fills him with so much fury that he puts his hands underneath the table that it all rested on and pushes it upwards. The steel tabletop clanks loudly against the tiled floor, followed by his various weapons scattering across the bunker. He glares at the mess that he made as he catches his breath from the exertion, feeling more and more anger rise within him.

It was rage at the world, rage at people, a fury more powerfully aimed at himself.

It wasn't a burning rage though. It was a hollow and cold bitterness that froze his heart over. He couldn't feel. He didn't want to feel. When Laurel died, it was this aching menace of a pain that would nearly double him over when it was at it's worst. Then he lost his team and slowly the pain started to become this void. As the months passed after Laurel's death, the pain grew into a numbness that never left him.

Countless nights he would lay on the couch and stare up at the ceiling, hoping that the walls around him would suck him in. Other nights he would jolt up in a cold sweat, tears saturating his cheeks. He was stuck in a vicious cycle of blaming himself and carrying the weight of Star City and the world on his shoulders.

He continues to stare at the floor before slowly looking straight ahead at a dark, blank television screen. He could see a silhouette of his reflection that only incited more fury. But as his vision became tinted red, there was another sight reflecting in the far side of the screen. Just by looking at the screen, one wouldn't be able to tell what the lighted box that illuminated the black space was. But Oliver knew exactly what it was. He looked at it every night when he missed her. It was binding him back into a calmer state, clearing his vision.

He then sat on the floor, allowing the silence to engulf him into a state of loneliness. He thought more about his dispute with Felicity as he looked around the lifeless bunker. His only companions being the manikins sporting the suits his former teammates once wore. It only deepened the longing void in his chest that he felt for Thea, John, and especially Laurel. Normally Felicity would also be leaning against the railing that was sitting on it's lonesome above its head. No one was there to whisper the words of assurance that he needed, or the extra drive to go do what was right even when his mind was fixated on other things.

She was the person practically shoving him out of the bunker to go to city hall when he was hyperfocused on what needed to be done on the streets. She was the person reminding him that Laurel wouldn't have wanted him wallowing and drowning himself in blame. Even though he hardly ever listened to her or even opened up to her, rather, having Felicity by his side was that extra assurance and sense of normalcy that he needed to push along. She had left— rightfully so and that's what only agitated the pain and anger he felt.

He slowly stood up and walked to a separate storage cabinet that was across the bunker. Opening the door to empty bottles of liquor, he realized that he had done this sad experiment of drinking alone in deafening stillness one too many times. He hated bars, which was ironic considering he spent the better part of his early twenties getting hammered at bars and clubs. Yet as he has aged he especially hated going to bars and being the pathetic loner who sat along the wooden surface, downing whiskey as he felt the stares of eyes who recognized him as a very public figure.

Most liquor stores were closed at this hour, however, and something told him that he didn't need to put himself in a position where he could get angry and damage more things. So he slipped on a coat over his causal tee shirt and jeans and made his way back into the city. In an attempt to avoid any sort of widespread attention he hid his eyes with a hat, hanging his head down low as he walked through a lively metro area.

He found a fairly nonbusy bar, where most people were either dining at the tables around the restaurant or playing pool and darts. He sat at the very end of the bar counter and closest to a wall in hopes that fewer people would see him that way. A bartender walks his way and shoots him a surprised look as he realizes who he was about to get a drink for.

Oliver notices the expressions on his face. He holds his hand up as if he was asking him to keep the chatter to a minimum. He simply tells him, "Glass of scotch." He pauses to give more emphasis on his next words, " _Neat."_

He leans his elbows on the counter as he holds the glass in between his palms. He leans into his left side as he uses his right hand to propel the drink into his mouth. He feels the liquor burn against his throat and then his esophagus. He relishes in the sensation.

The bartender walks to attend a woman who had just walked up to the counter, and as Oliver waited for him to return he stared at his empty glass. One swig was usually enough to do him over but tonight's events had him craving more. But as he fiddled with his glass, he heard a familiar voice pierce through the chaotic chatter of the bar scene.

He turned his head to see a blonde woman setting her purse down on the step below the counter. She was dressed casually— a thicker cardigan sweeping over a pair of denim jeans. Her hair was pulled down over her shoulders. If it wasn't for the tender voice and the sight of glasses in her side profile, Oliver probably wouldn't have recognized her.

He stands up, trying to look less worn down than he already did before he raises his voice slightly to get her attention.

_"Kara?"_

Kara unfolded her laptop, feeling overwhelmed at the sight of unread emails almost immediately. It was Friday. As the chief editor, it was her responsibility to trudge through other reporters' potential articles and decide what would go into the Sunday news. She had worked her way up to this point in her career and she could not be more content with it. However, she missed the simplicity of pushing deadlines to get _her_ stories in, not being bombarded with her coworkers' last-minute submissions.

She wrote every chance that she could. Especially as of recently, the publishers have been keener on the submissions that she's written for the political happenings going on Star City. So one could imagine the pressure that she has been getting from not only the higher-ups but her coworkers to either write her own article chastising Mayor Queen, Oliver rather, or allow someone else to write one.

One of the reporters who helped her on the political column did not believe in the idea of Oliver taking away funding from the police and despite Kara's initial rejections, she eventually let up and allowed for the woman to at least send in a submission. Reading through it, it only touched on the surface of funding being taken from the police department and not exactly why it was being done. It quickly became an attempt to assassinate Oliver's character and was full of biased opinions against his administration.

That's _not_ journalism- and that was a standard that Kara would always abide by.

But the publishers wanted an article that would get clicks and buys. They wanted to keep the city talking. It had nothing to do with the well-being of Star City. Unfortunately, that was the direction the publication was going in, and not just with politics. It was shallow articles on the fashion choices of public figures in Star City. It was sports articles half-assing recaps on games and focusing on locker room talk and what athletes were doing outside of their craft. It was pushing Star City further and further away from being actually informed.

There are few things more powerful than the press and media. Kara believed in real change through journalism but unfortunately, no one else seemed to think the city could be saved through this medium. And after weeks of hollow news sharing and false accusations made towards a man with a good heart, she was worried she was losing faith in it.

Ever since she was young, all Kara Danvers wanted to do was help people. She had a drive to protect, a will to do good. Journalism was that path for her. She got her degree and immediately worked as an intern at the Inquirer, hoping that one day she would be able to use her voice for good, for real change. That day has finally come. The people of Star City listen to her, value her, raise her up. But the people around her, those who have the same profession as she did— the people who were supposed to be helping her do just as she wished to do, didn't really care about this city. They just cared about their paycheck. And instead of being able to contribute more to the paper, Kara was stuck behind a computer reading their apathetic attempts at journalism.

Her office phone rang. Checking the caller ID that was plastered along the digital strip above the dialing pad, she let out a sigh as she read the name of the head of the publishing company. Without even saying hello after she picked up, he immediately asked about when she would be sending in the articles for the paper. She bit her tongue, attempting to flush out all of the frustrated and spiteful thoughts wanting to slip from its grasp.

"I am editing right now, sir," Kara responds as she tries to multitask, typing away as she speaks. "I've got about six more submissions to go through."

"Anything on Queen?"

"Not this week, Mr. King. I-"

He clears his throat to interrupt her sentence. His tone is urgent and Kara can sense his demands through the phone. "We need to put something about him in the paper, Ms. Danvers."

"The only thing sent in was a biased piece from Wilder on the police funding. I don't want to publish that." Kara tries to keep her tone respectful all the while showing her conviction. She knew she had a better chance of being taken seriously if her tone wasn't harsh.

He sighs. "If it's the only thing we have on him, send it in."

"I don't think her piece needs to go in the Sunday paper, sir," Kara tells him fervently. "It's nothing of substance-"

"Ms. Danvers," he interjects, interrupting her mid-sentence once again. "Your articles on him have done numbers for subscriptions and paper sales. We need to keep the news on him coming no matter what it is."

"Sir, if you want to handle the editing on the rest of these submissions, I'll write you a much more informative piece for the front page—"

"Get it into me by tonight and I'll review both yours and Wilder's and decide which goes in."

"Okay but again, I _really_ don't think Wilder's article should be out there for people to read."

He chuckles condescendingly. "I'll make that decision for myself, Danvers."

Kara feels anger build up inside of her and she clasps the telephone into her fists. The plastic cracks, shatters actually, making Kara jump as she was in a trance through her anger. This wasn't the first time that he had undermined her role as chief editor and took it upon himself to choose what went into the paper. He didn't believe in Kara's ability to be "partial," but the reality was that he didn't like that Kara wanted the emphasis to be on things that mattered. So he had the reporters also send their submissions to him.

Knowing that he would take care of the editing, she exited out of the emails tab and opened up a word document. She took out her notes from the interview with Oliver from mere weeks ago and reviewed them. She had a real opportunity here to possibly aid him in his public opinion— just by showing Star City the man he was and who he could be for the city. It wasn't just important to her to somewhat repay him for all of the damage her and the Inquirer's articles could've had on him. It was important to her that she wrote truthfully and honestly about a man that she believed could be the beacon of hope that this city needed. He could be the change it needed.

And that change started with her. Just as she believed chastising him would be the first step in putting the city back in the right direction, she believed that the city having faith in Oliver could have the same effect. She had the voice and the resources to do it.

This was how the chain of change began.

So she sat in her office and wrote. All of the lights in the building were off besides hers. It was a thrilling feeling to her really. Trying to once again meet an approaching deadline. It took her back to the days where she was simply a reporter and she would be out all day trying to gather up all she could about what she was investigating or researching. She would come back to this building, sit in the cubicle that was once her workspace, and she would organize and write until she was finished with the story.

Alex told her every day that her hard work would pay off. Her ambition to get all of every story. Her drive to inform as well as she could change the world, let alone this city. And she was right— as she usually was. She kept writing important pieces- and the people listened. When Mr. King was called up to the publisher to take an executive position, she was the first to come to mind to become the new editor in chief. Her articles, whether they are steaming political narratives or highlights of positive things going on in this city, the people of Star City listened.

Her kindness also won the city over. She smiled while greeting everyone who waved as she walked down the street. Anyone who walked up to her and told her that they appreciated her writing, she made sure that she took the time to converse with them. She was a source of warmth and light everyone around her and that was amplified as she got more renown through her writing.

She knew the impact that she could have on this city. But still, she felt like she wasn't doing enough. So in nights like tonight, she pushed herself hard- probably too hard, to finish what she thought was an insightful and informative article. She had a lot of confidence in her ability to write thoughtful and effective pieces. She had been living this life as a reporter for close to ten years. It was nearly habitual.

_In lieu of all of the misguided things said on Mayor Queen's behalf, I truly believe that he could be the man to save Star City. In fact, I think we could all learn a thing or two from his passion and devotion towards making our home a better and safer place._

_One man alone cannot save our city. It will take all of us. Instead of being divisive, we should all stand together, united, and allow this city to thrive once more._

Kara smiles as she types her final words. She reads through it a time or two before sending it through to the publisher without a second thought. She had not even picked up her cell phone in the four hours it took her to complete the article to her favor. She had a couple of missed calls and a text message from Alex, telling her that she could not make it tonight due to had slipped Kara's mind that Alex was coming over for wine and sappy romantic movies, It was long past midnight and she would have stood her up anyways. She makes this known to Alex before packing up her things and leaving the office, the last one to leave as she normally was.

She walked the crowded streets of a typical Friday night, well Saturday morning really, in Star City. People were out at clubs, walking drunkenly on the sidewalks and shouting stupid things at taxi drivers. Kara never wanted to draw any attention towards herself at night, with the frequency of men and the occasional woman walking up to her with some cheesy pick-up line in hopes to lure Kara back to their home with them- she just wanted to keep her head down low. So she did.

She reached her apartment without any confrontations. She still had a craving for something alcoholic, as she had a long day of working, and sometimes she just needed something to soothe her down. It was therapeutic. So her first thought was to head to the cabinet that held her wine liquor, only to find and remember that she and Alex had gone through the final bottle just days ago and she was supposed to pick up a bottle before tonight.

There was a bar not too far from her home and it was one that she had been to a few times on failed dates. She needed something to fulfill her alcohol quota. Even if it was as desperate of a measure as a bar. She had never gotten drunk before, nor could she, but there was still something curative about sipping a chilled glass of wine or strong liquor that burned her chest without dazing her mind. So she indulged in this practice as much as she could- especially with no risks involved.

So she let her hair down and traded her blazer for a cardigan, swapping her work slacks for denim, and walked out the door. She didn't mind going out alone. She had lived a lot of her life relying on her sister's friendship, making a few acquaintances at work. Her life was complicated. Sometimes she felt as if she couldn't be unapologetically herself with people outside of Alex, and well. her cousin Clark. But he was up, up and away in Metropolis and she rarely saw him.

So she socialized with people at work and those she saw on the streets but kept a lot of who she was to herself and her sister. It was getting more and more tiring as she aged. But for the betterness of herself and others, she pressed along.

She walked into the bar, fairly uncrowded as it was, and she was immediately met by smiles and waves. The bartender was already grinning as she walked to the counter, sending joy to her face as well.

"How are you?" She asked him kindly, leaning against the wooden beam.

"Doing well," he began as he was wiping down a glass. "What can I get for you, Ms. Danvers?"

"Just a glass of scotch, please." She responded, taking her purse off her shoulder. "On the rocks."

She put her things down as she awaited her drink. As she began to sit down, she heard her name called out to her. The man was wearing a hat so she had to look closer to get a better look at him.

"Oliver?" She was filled with surprise when she realized who else was out for a late-night drink, but oddly enough it was a welcome one.

He stands up and makes his way towards her, bringing his glass with her. "I didn't really see you as someone who spent their nights at a bar."

"I can say the same about you, _Mr. Mayor."_ She retorts with sarcasm.

He chuckles. "I was out of liquor and I _really_ needed a drink."

"Well, I guess we're in the same boat then," Kara begins alluringly. She raises her eyebrow. "Long day?"

"That is _severely_ underselling it." He responds before mimicking the expression on her face. "And you?"

She presses her lips together as she nods, taking the glass from the bartender before responding. "I've spent the better part of the last twelve hours editing half-assed articles and writing my own. I just needed to decompress with a little help."

"I'm with you on that," Oliver tells her, taking a swig of his drink before turning back in the direction that he came from. Something was telling him to stay- maybe it was Kara's warm and welcoming eyes, maybe it was Felicity's voice ringing in his head telling him that he would continue to be lonely without letting anyone in.

He bit his lip as he pondered on his next move, only to hear Kara's voice rip through his train of thought. "You don't have to leave, you know." Oliver turns his head and see's Kara continuing to have her eyes locked on him. "Bars _are_ for talking and there's an empty seat right here."

Oliver hesitantly brings his whole body around and makes his way back towards Kara. He notices Kara's empty glass and requests two more from the bartender before taking a seat next to her. He looks at her with reservation while telling her, "I'm not much of a talker. But I can listen better than most."

"You're a politician," Kara responds knowingly. "Surely you can think of something to talk about." Oliver lets out a chesty laugh.

Kara watches as his eyes slowly harden as they trail to his drink on the counter. He purses his lips. "I had a friend tell me that I needed to reevaluate what I was doing. And she was right." He begins to shift the liquor back in forth in the glass. "And I have _really_ been wondering if I can truly save this city."

"It's going to take all of us. Not just you," Kara begins, following his eyes in hopes to get them back on her. She continues with assurance. "You can't carry the weight of the city on your shoulders."

"It's more complicated than that," Oliver looks up, staring off into the distance for a brief second before looking back at Kara. "I've taken initiative and I have people doubting and not backing my plays. How effective of a leader can I be if no one listens?"

"When you're in a position of authority, you naturally will alienate people," Kara tells him. "As long as you are doing the right thing, for good and right reasons, it shouldn't matter. You'll find people that believe in you."

"The city doesn't believe in me, my friends don't believe in me, it's kind of difficult to find the faith in what _I_ believe."

"I understand where you're coming from," Kara responds with empathy. "My publisher and I don't see eye to eye. He is constantly pressuring me to publish things that I don't believe in. But I care about the people of this city too much to let that get in my way of doing what I think is right."

Oliver can't stop a smile from forming across his lips as he comprehends the words she said. The gleam stems not only from the words she said resonating deeply within him but the manner in which she said it. She spoke with such fortitude, such conviction. He could not help but be in awe. He gazes as she gracefully takes a drink from her glass.

He mirrors her motion while continuing to think about what she said, finishing his glass in a quick guzzle.

"You really do take your job seriously don't you, Kara?" Oliver asks, still slightly awestruck.

Kara nods. "It's my chance to help people. I don't ever want to jeopardize that."

Oliver cannot hide the admiration from the look in his eyes as he watches her keenly. He thinks back to whenever she was in his office, hammering him with tough questions that seemed a bit too pressing. But seeing her the way he did now, he realized where those questions came from. They stemmed from a passion, a drive, a resolve not just for this city, but for the well-being of the people of this city.

It was beginning to feel as if it was a source of connection between the two of them just as much as it was something they admired about each other.

"By the way, I have applications on my desk for that task force you suggested," Oliver tells her, as his train of thought led him back to the task force and their conversation from the last time they spoke. "They'll be commissioned by the end of next week."

"That is fantastic," Kara tells him with enthusiasm. "All the city needs is a little spark and I think this could be it."

"All thanks to you."

Kara shakes her head with modesty. "I can't take all of the credit."

An idea suddenly dawns on Oliver, almost like an epiphany. Again the words Felicity told him rang throughout his conscience as the thought progressed. "You know, I could use a little bit of help at city hall. Someone to bounce ideas off of, or help start ideas."

"Are you asking _me_ to help?" Kara asks, looking at him with surprise.

Oliver shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah. It wouldn't have to be an official thing since you're clearly a busy woman. But anytime you would want to swing by and help me sort through some things. . ."

"Oliver," Kara begins with an amiable pointedness. "It sounds more like you're asking for a friend."

"Does it?" Oliver questions, furrowing his eyebrows exaggeratively.

Kara giggles. "Yes, it does."

"Does that make the proposition any less intriguing?"

Kara pulls out a pen from her purse, sliding over a napkin that rested on the bar counter. She smiles as she writes digits neatly on the coarse paper before giving it to Oliver. "Not at all." She looks at him questionably. "This isn't because you haven't hired anyone else yet, right?"

"No," Oliver denies vehemently. "I just hired our new DA yesterday."

Kara presses her lips together and nods as if she was impressed. "Would I know him?"

"Does civil rights attorney Adrian Chase ring a bell?"

Kara's eyes widen in recognition. "I've used him as a source on a couple of articles actually. That's a fantastic choice."

"I'm hoping so."

They continue to talk more about how the hiring process is going for Oliver. He tells her that he simply needs a deputy mayor along with a couple of strategists to fill the voids in his mayoral staff. Their conversation slowly shifts into Kara talking about her daily life at the office and her frustrations with her publisher. He had told her earlier that he was a good listener, and within these conversations, she believed it.

There was a simplicity within the chaos as they spoke to one another. It was natural ease with the words they spoke with one another. No awkward pauses, no nervous stutters, it was a fluid and steady conversing. They got satisfaction out of talking with one another that they were not aware that they needed. They both needed this- badly.

They received the inner tranquility from conversating that they hoped to have attained from the alcohol tonight. Neither of them typically went to bars but if every time was as nice as this wasm they'd both do it again without hesitation.

They had not ordered a drink for over an hour, so the bartender had slid their checks onto the counter beside them. They both took notice of this minutes after he did it, laughing at their mutual unawareness.

"You know, I was supposed to hang out with my sister tonight," Kara explains. Oliver looks at her attentively. "But I'm kind of glad she had to cancel."

"I'm glad I didn't have any liquor left," Oliver concurs. He flashes her an inquisitive and attentive stare. "You never mentioned having a sister."

"Yeah. Alex." Kara nods, content spreading across her lips as she thinks about sister. "I don't know where I'd be without her."

Oliver mimics her expressions. "Sisters are great that way, huh?"

"Yeah. She helped me through the hardest part of my life," Kara reminisces on her childhood, stopping herself as she felt herself choke up. She felt Oliver's caring eyes follow her's as she looked away. She immediately began to apologize, "Sorry, I don't mean to get emotional."

"You don't have to apologize," Oliver responds warmly. "It's been one of the toughest years of my life and Thea has been there for me _every_ step of the way. I get it. She's special to you."

"She is."

Kara wipes a tear that was forming in her eyelid before going down to reach for her check. Oliver slowly and carefully brings one of his arms over Kara as he uses the other to pull his own wallet from his jacket pocket. He raises it in the air before telling her, "this rounds on me."

She watches him earnestly, closely observing as he pulls out two twenty-dollar bills and sets them on the counter. It was the little things about him that intrigued her— the warmness of his voice as he spoke, the gentle eyes that assured her every time he spoke. Sometimes when he would speak the corners of his mouth would slowly form into a delicate smile. He had a tender feel when they would make contact that

immediately allowed her to sink into his touch.

"Will I be seeing you sometime next week, _Ms. Danvers?"_ Oliver asks her as they both stand up and begin to walk out together.

She lets out a short chuckle as they near the door. "Most definitely. If not to talk policies then to come back here to get another round— on me this time."

"Why not both?" Oliver asks with a cocked eyebrow.

Kara smiles. "I'm down for whatever. It was really nice talking to you, Oliver."

"You too, Kara. Do you need me to walk you home or anything?"

"I'm not too far away, I'll be fine."

He nods as he says his final goodbye and walks the other direction. As soon as she turns to walk towards her apartment, her phone begins to buzz. It isn't just one buzz, it's many of them all at once. She was getting bombarded with text messages and eventually an alert message from Channel 52 News scrolls across her phone.

Her hearing picks up Oliver's same notification from a mile away and she immediately turns to walk in his direction. As he reads, he looks up and takes notice of Kara walking, more like running towards him. His eyes were ridden with fear in a way that she hadn't seen and it forced her to pick up her step.

_Gang Members Apprehended by the Green Arrow Found Brutally Murdered By Throwing Stars_

"Did you see this?" Kara asks him with urgency. She scrolls through her messages, noticing a pattern in all of them. "

"I have to go," Oliver says, his entire demeanor shifting into one of a laser-like focus. "Please get back to your apartment as quickly as you can."

"Oliver—"

He immediately walks off and begins running as he gets further away.

Kara turns around and rips her glasses off. She begins to run, feeling the surge of energy course through her as she picks up speed. Power begins to course through her forearm as she tightens her fists.

The wind began to blow into her face as she almost jumped off the sidewalk to leap into the air but something stopped her. It was Alex's voice in her head.

_"Your powers are a danger to you and this city, Kara."_

She slows down her run as the words continue to resonate. She comes to a halt to catch her breath. She wanted to jump, she wanted to help. But she couldn't.

_"Just be normal. Fit in."_

She had to put her glasses on once again, and hide the best part of herself away from the world.

 _Not tonight, Kara._ The disciplining assurance played through her mind like a mantra.

_Not tonight._


	4. Jumping Hurdles and Crossing the Finish Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the slow update. Life got busy and my mind was struggling for focus on this story. But I’m excited for you all to read this chapter— it’s very character driven and kind of anti-climatic considering what went down at the end of last chapter, but it’s still such an important one that sets up the rest of the story for Oliver and Kara both. Hope you enjoy!

_"Kryptonite is out there, Kara. And what if some government organization like A.R.G.U.S has some ready to use the moment they get scared, huh?"_

_"Clark has told you that they fear him. Imagine how they would react to another Kryptonian? Someone else to fear? You can't risk that. The city can't risk that."_

_"Please. Just stay here. It's safer for you and the city."_

And so she did.

This was the reality she had lived for the nineteen years that she had spent on Earth. It started off with her adoptive father telling her to fit in and keep her powers hidden. After he died and Alex took up her research position, she repeated the same notions with more alarm- knowing the ever-changing attitudes aimed at metahumans and powered people coming from the government. She always trusted in Alex's discretion and knew it came from a place of concern and love.

But that did not mean that it did not hurt her tremendously as she watched her city die, feeling helpless as she concealed the better part of herself.

She constantly yearned to once again feel the sensations she felt while she would fly. The crisp wind gracing the skin on her face as she floated through the air. The ground being a thousand feet below her as she felt miles away from everything she desperately desired to missed the imitable peace that she never felt elsewhere. After her entire home planet was destroyed, taking her closest friends and family with it, she never thought that she would experience the serene tranquility she would feel as she drifted in the upper atmosphere.

She would close her eyes and soak it all in- relishing in every burst of cold air, her hair flowing backward off of her shoulders, the wind carrying her body as if she had no bodyweight for it to hold.

As Kara stands along the railings of the balcony, feeling that brisk breeze blow against her face, she continues to crave this feeling once again. A feeling she had not felt since she was sixteen years old- it was the last time she had ever flown. But she could still feel every sensation that she did that night as if it had just happened.

And although the physical moments of power were welcome, they were not the main contributor of the pacification she felt.

It was the how and the why.

She was Kryptonian. Every inch of her skin, every tiny hair follicle, each cell and atom of her body were made up of Kryptonian DNA and she could not be more proud of it. Every day she walked amongst the world as one of the last living legacies of the once-great civilizations that met an early demise. She and her cousin Kal roamed the world as the last son, the last daughter of the House of El and Krypton.

Kal, known by some as Clark, even wore the crest of the House of El on his chest as he flew through the skies and protected the city of Metropolis, and more broadly the world, as the renowned hero Superman. Out of the two of them, she was the only one who ever really experienced Krypton in fervor. He was a baby when he was sent off in a pod while Kara was a mere teenager.

Yet he still spent 24 years on Earth before Kara's pod ever made it. In those years, he slowly learned about his powers, eventually slipping on the cape and becoming one of the brightest beacons of hope in the country. Even though Metropolis claimed him as their own, Kara always watched with Kryptonian pride as he represented their home with grace and honor.

But with the renown came fear. Fear of his strength, fear of his power, fear of his self-control. And fear, unfortunately, drives people to do crazy things like attack entire cities and go after people that are vocal about relations with Superman.

So despite how much Kara wanted to make her own name for herself, she never could. She hoped that maybe as she got older and learned from Clark's mistakes, she would be able to don her own cape and save the people of Star City. But the city began to die. White-collared criminals partaking in an undertaking that nearly destroyed an entire portion of the city; juiced up super-soldiers sieging the city as they sought to bring it down; a genocidal madman who wanted to rebuild the world in his image

And every time that someone threatened Star City, she would sit on her couch at home or in her office chair and watch helplessly as her city fell further. All she wanted to do was fly off into the skies and protect those who couldn't protect themselves. She felt every death, every fallen building on her shoulders because she felt as if she could have prevented it just by embracing her Kryptonian side.  
But being a reporter had been Kara's avenue for making a difference for so long. Now, she felt like it was being trivialized by dirty politics and greedy men. So the aching to save the world and the city as her cousin did was even more so present now than it had been in years.

So she stood here staring at a dying city, _her_ city, and gazed at the skies that she could be soaring through. She sees the people that she could be saving. She hears the sounds of revving engines, people chatting, people screaming from thieves in the night, and she knows that those are the people who need her most. Not just as Kara Danvers, but as someone else. Someone she hasn't embraced yet.

She looks out into the city though, however, and sees its beauty. She sees how the light off the skyscrapers radiates into the clouds and reflects a bright hue over the city. Even though this city could be a frightening place in the darkest hours of the night, it was such a beautiful and breathtaking sight. And in each instance where Kara took the time to admire it from this position, she was given this new burst of hope that it could be saved. Deep within this conviction of hers stood the idea that she could be apart of that saving.

The Green Arrow has done it for years. He's protected the people of this city, given hope to this city, saved them from catastrophe time after time. He was Star City's hero. And Kara has sat on the couch, feeling her hope dwindle amongst looming tragedy and evil in her city, only for the Green Arrow to restore that hope.

And she watches Clark be the same thing for Metropolis. She hears his stories. When he tells her how great it feels to save someone from a burning fire, or stop a petty robbery, how the smallest of deeds give him this enriching feeling of hope and goodness give him strength. She desires the same feeling.

She watches the Green Arrow be a beacon of hope for their city— _her_ city. And despite how eternally grateful she is for him and all he's done— she wants to do the same. She has always wanted to. Her parents told her before she was sent off to Earth in a pod that she could do incredible things, that she was destined for incredible things. And Kara still has yet to feel as if she's honoring that.

She has so much hope for this city, for this world, and she just wants to share it.

She hears the sliding glass door move, using her hearing to confirm that it was her sister without turning around and looking. She feels her presence behind her as she walks to join her against the railing.

"I never really appreciated Star City much until I spent six years in National City," Alex begins as she admires the same scene that Kara had been for the past half hour. "It's gorgeous out there. Safe. Thriving. But it isn't. . ."

Kara doesn't fix her gaze as she interjects. " _Home."_

"You okay?" Alex asks, noticing the lulling dullness in her voice.

Kara nods. The look on her face isn't very convincing however and she knows it, so she keeps her head aimed forward. "I've been here for nineteen years, Alex. I've watched this city go through struggle after struggle, _knowing_ thatI can do something about it. But I haven't."

"Kara, there's a _good_ reason why you haven't." Alex tells her stately.

Kara shakes her head, looking at her with unconvinced question. "Is there though?"

"What do you mean?"

Kara takes a breath before turning to face her. "Fear is the only thing keeping me from helping people. Fear of what could happen to _me_. And that's selfish."

"Hey," Alex begins, walking close to her to bring as much intimacy into her assurance as she can. She takes her hands. "You are _not_ selfish. You have so much compassion for people and this city and it shows up in your work."

Kara grimaces as she looks away and out into the city beside her once again. She feels herself tearing up. "But that's not enough anymore, Alex. This city _needs_ me to help in another way. And there is another way."

"No, Kara," Alex's tone begins to shift into an authoritative one. "Do you see what's happened to this city with the Green Arrow running around? Terrorist attacks one after the other. And the _same_ thing happened in Metropolis with Clark. _And_ in Central City whenever The Flash showed up— you suiting up won't make the situation better."

Kara furrows her eyebrows, as a sense of anger began to be displayed across her face. She stares at Alex in utter discord. "They're all _heroes._ They protect people, save people—"

"Go out to the waterfront and look at the Black Canary's statue," Alex tells her, referring to the fallen hero's memorial that had just been revealed mere months ago. She spoke with a fear and a pointedness that transcended her emotions into Kara. "She wanted to protect and save people too— and look what happened to her.

"And Laurel Lance was a human that people didn't fear. You, Kara, could be feared by people in power. You _know_ this." She continues. "And I'm not going to stand here and rehash the same argument with you _again_."

Kara brings her attention to the ground beneath her, before turning her body back towards the railing. She simply nods in acknowledgement as she turns, accepting the fact that she will never be able to convince Alex that what she _wanted_ to do was what she _needed_ to do.

"Kara," she begins with warmth in her remorse. She shifts her gaze into one of concern. "Where is all of this coming from?"

Kara chuckles without humor while shaking her head. "I can feel the Inquirer slipping from my grasp. I had to practically shove that article on Oliver to the publisher and he begrudgingly put it in the paper—"

"That's _good_ though," Alex assures her. "I know that was something that you believed in."

Kara looks back out to the skyline in the distance. "But how many more things am I going to have to beg him to put in the paper? He's continually showing less and less faith in me and my input is of minimal importance to him."

"But your voice is important to the people of this city. They _will_ listen to you."

Kara musters a grin, even though she doesn't really feel any kind of content. She brings her attention to the railing and begins to fiddle with her fingers as she contemplates and verbalizes the disarray of thoughts in her mind. "I just don't think my time should be spent at the Inquirer anymore. I need to find my own path, forge my own way."

"You do what you believe in. Because I promise you, I, along with many others will follow and believe in whatever that is—" She crinkles her face in, slight mocking contempt displayed before she finishes her thought. "But don't quit your job until you know what that is. Because you still have to pay the bills."

Kara laughs heartedly, showing the first genuine smile she had all night. "I'm hoping this stint with Oliver at City Hall will give me some kind of direction."

"It's still _so_ weird hearing you refer to the mayor as _Oliver,"_ Alex shifts the direction of the conversation.

Kara lets out a single, breathy giggle before answering. "I'm just _now_ getting used to it."

"What exactly are you going to be doing?" Alex asks.

Kara shrugs her shoulders exaggeratively, pressing her lips together as she looks at Alex. "I think he just wants someone to bounce ideas off of, consult with since he's understaffed."

"Lucky for him, he couldn't have picked anyone better," Alex winks at her. She opens her arms out for Kara to enter and Kara doesn't hesitate. Alex holds her close, allowing her sister to feel the outer and inner warmth she was syphoning off. She allows for Kara's head to rest up against her cheek. "I'm _so_ proud of you, Kara. No matter what you do, where you go, you will never meet someone prouder."

She holds her tighter. "But please. Be careful. There are so many ways to save this city that don't involve spandex."

"I know," Kara replies with laughter. She pulls away slightly, just enough to look Alex in the eyes as she says her next words. "And hey. I'm proud of you. You serve this country everyday. You protect and save lives just as much as any of those _spandex_ wearing heroes do."

Alex chuckles with tears welling up in her eyes as she pulls away entirely to wipe them. "I didn't come out here to cry."

They both have a bouts of amusement as they continue their conversations on other topics. Despite how much Kara disagreed with Alex's stance, she was incredibly grateful that she had someone in her life to care about her so deeply. She wouldn't be who she was without her sister. She could never be the person, the hero she'd like to one day be if it was not for Alex. So her approval had always been of utmost importance to her.

But in light of recent events, this flame burning inside of her was one that couldn't be fanned out. It engulfed her. This passion, this desire— it seethed through any sense of rationality. She could no longer deny it the way that she had for the better part of two decades. She felt closer than she ever had to finally be able to soar through the skies. And in depths of her aspirations she knew that all needed was a green light to push forward.

Kara Danvers had gazed at Star City from her balcony many times. But for the first time, she stared at it with a hope that she could be a real force for good.

_And she was ready._   
_*_

_Oliver Queen has looked around this bunker many times._

He remembers the first day that he took Felicity, John, and Thea into an old, run down campaigning office and told them that he had decided to run for Mayor. Laurel had played a major role in his decision process, so she was already aware of that announcement to their team. But what she didn't know, was that Oliver and Felicity had been building a top-of-the-line lair that catered to each of their needs. A shooting range, sparring mats and dummies, a garage for their bikes, their own storage compartments for their equipment, and display cases tailored to fit their suits and weapons. And of course, Felicity had her own platform of high powered computer systems sitting in the middle of it all.

The look on their faces as they looked around the LED-lighted dream center of operations was one Oliver would never forget. They had come a long way from the inadequate foundry that housed their nightly crusades— and they deserved every inch of it.

_He remembers Laurel stepping forward and soaking in the sight for a moment before turning around with the brightest smile on her face. Pride gleamed from her eyes as she held her arms up towards Oliver's neck, motioning him to come closer._

_"You did this, Ollie." She tells him with gratification while throwing her arms over his shoulders. She gets on the tip of her toes so her face is even with his._

_He places his hands gently around her pelvis, a subtle, sly smirk forming across his lips as he retorts, "I did. And I spent a lot of hours doing so."_

_"No," she replies with a chuckle. "You made all of this possible. The team, this amazing setup, all of it. It was you. And I couldn't be prouder."_

_He brings her closer towards him as he presses his lips upwards. "Couldn't have done it without you by my side."_

And despite being on month five of life without Laurel, he still felt as if he could not do this without her.

He stared around this bunker that he had built. The bright lights shining just as radiantly as the first time he flipped the switch. The abundance of weapons and gadgets, high-end technology that kept his missions running. His suit was on display along with Laurel, John, and Thea's, the green lighting behind them giving it all the more character.

Yes, he built and set it all up with his hands. But it all started with him sitting in the basement of his father's old steel factory. Nothing but a few gadgets, trick arrows, and low-end computers that got him by for a few months on his own. As his crusade progressed, he slowly brought more people in- John was first then Felicity. Roy soon followed and Thea took his place later on, with Laurel coming in between that time. The tech he had had to grow with the team as did the base of operations.

Sometimes he could not help but smile as he would stand atop a rooftop and watch his team thwart whatever threat they were facing. As someone who initially wanted to go about this alone, he surprised himself with how enamored he was with having that team- a team forged through tragedies and suffering, united by a simple goal of fighting for what was right. It was the notion upon which his crusade was built on and his team was a living, breathing fruition of it.

So as he gazed around at this bunker _tonight ,_ he realized something. The cognizance of the reality just now dawning on him as he had been so stuck in his desperation and grief that it had never truly set with him. With Felicity's departure, the actuality of the situation was only more glaring.

_This bunker was empty._

Thea left because she couldn't handle this life anymore.

John left to fight a different darkness, serving the military once again.

Felicity left because Oliver let this void consume him so much that he couldn't even pinpoint his own loneliness.

And Laurel. . . the choice was taken out of her hands. Life reared it's ugly head and peeled her out of this world, subsequently sucking every inch of light out of Oliver's world as it did. When she left, it was when Oliver felt the brunt of the void. It's when Oliver felt the deafening silence.

He told her that he couldn't have done any of this without her and he believed it. He believed it enough for each team member's departure to affect him minimally.

But as he stands in front of the elevator just as he did when he showed his team this bunker for the first time, suddenly it all came crashing on him like a wave from the sea— knocking him over with such a loud thud that it woke those sleeping along the East Coast.

He'd been impaled with an arrow before, right through the chest. It was self-inflicted, as it delivered a fatal blow to the man with his arms wrapped around his neck who was trying to snap it and end his life.

But this felt like four arrows piercing his skin, burning through the outer layers as it ripped through the tissue, the sharp pain radiating through his body as it shredded his tendons leaving his limbs limp and the rest of his muscles weak. The loneliness almost feeling physical as it consumed him.

He thought back to the island, to times when he quite literally had no one. He washed up onto the shores of Lian Yu with the only corpse he knew of in his vicinity being the one of his deceased father. There was no one to save him, no one to embrace him and tell him everything would be okay. It was just him. He had a bad habit of defaulting to this mentality. When the world continued to be harsh to him, he never leaned into the people closest to him. His mind drifted back to the purgatory he spent the better part of five years in.

As the threat of an unjust killer roaming the streets of Star City was looming, and Oliver had no one to try to conjugate a plan with, no one to help him scan the streets, no one to triangulate a possible location.

_No one._

This was the predicament that he had found his mental state over the weekend. No leads. No calls from Felicity. Only a couple of calls from Thea, telling him that she had not heard anything about the murders. He hadn't slept. He had hardly even consumed an ounce of food as he felt the weight of everyone who had left him.

And in the midst of all of this loneliness, he remembers that isolation that he felt on the island once again. Yet, instead of subconsciously honing in on the memories of having no one and living with it, he tries to remember the times that he craved human interaction. Even just seeing the smile across someone else's face, or the rush of serotonin he felt while laughing with someone. The simpleness of going back and forth with someone about how their day was going.

And as he allowed himself to feel the weight of these memories, he realized just how much he needed those simple things yet again. He was denying himself the simple joys in life in the midst of his despair.

And then he remembered what he had felt on Friday evening and it was something that he had not felt in a long time. It was the bliss, the satisfaction, the sense of serenity he felt while conversing. The sensation of connection to another human being that he had deprived himself of for so many months. The smile on Kara's face while she said the simplest of words- sparking a light inside of him.

He realized that he did not want to be on an island anymore. He was ready to tear down the walls that had been keeping him constrained for far too long now.

So he took his phone out of his pocket, his hand shaking as he did so. Something that had always been such a mindless task suddenly was taking every ounce of strength that he could muster. Even unlocking the device felt like he was struggling to the finish line of a marathon. Opening his contacts and scrolling through the people that he felt so far away from only solidified the notion in Oliver's mind that this was something that he absolutely needed to do.

He reached Kara's newly-entered contact information, feeling his breath hitch as he deeply inhaled before calling her. It rang a few times, only furthering the anxiety that he felt. Once she answered it felt as if he could breathe again.

"Hey," Kara answers brightly, her tone of voice not reflecting the early morning. "Wasn't expecting to hear from you so early. Everything okay?"

"Yeah." He answers simply, trying to summon enough energy to finish a complete thought. "It's just been a long night."

Kara's end of the line goes silent for a moment before she responds with concern. "You sound like you haven't slept in days. . . "

"I haven't." He admits, despite his autonomous reaction to mask what he was really dealing with. There was a layer in the frequency of Kara's voice that compelled Oliver to be candid with her. "I was just calling to see if you were coming by later."

Oliver can hear Kara laugh gently through her speaker. "You want to talk about _policie_ s?"

"Somewhat yeah," Oliver senses the jocularity in her words, smirking and emulating her tone as he answers. His tone of voice becomes a bit more serious along with his demeanor. "I need a friend, mostly."

The words almost felt awkward slipping off of Oliver's tongue. They came from his heart, which was something that he had not been relying on much lately. Yeah, he went out as the Green Arrow every night and sought to protect people. Of course, he woke up every morning, fastened on a tie and walked to City Hall to take steps to save Star City. Yes, all of these things were driven from the richest, purest forms of the love that rested in his soul. He had given so much of his altruism to others, strangers more like, but failed to have the same compassion for himself. Not only did he not think that he deserved it, he didn't have any left to give.

Opening up a compartment of his emotions like this to someone was a weird thought to pursue, let alone verbalize. So as he firmly told Kara that he needed a companion, someone to see a side of him that he hadn't shown to anyone in his life in months, the sensations fluttering inside of him were this strange medium in between unfamiliar and familiar. Yet, he knew with not only his heart, but the part of himself he had trusted so much lately— his mind— that he was absolutely doing the right thing.

And as he heard the benevolence ringing ever so lustrously throughout Kara's next words, like a major chord ripping through the sound barrier, he was even more affirmed that he opened up to the right person.

_"I can do both for you, Oliver. I'll be there."_

As there is a pause in her words, Oliver cannot stop the smile from forming across his lips. He hasn't been immune to showing his happiness in his grief, but there have been few times where that joy becomes euphoria radiating through his inner being. It was such a simple gesture. Yet for Oliver, it felt as if he'd just broke the tape in a marathon.

She finishes, "Under one condition."

"What's that?"

Kara chuckles. "You get some kind of sleep before I see you."

"No promises," Oliver tells her cheekily.

"I'll see you later," she tells him. " _Rested."_

Oliver's smile grows into a content grin as he leans back into his seat.

"I'll see you later."

Suddenly, this bunker didn't feel so hollow anymore. _Oliver_ didn't feel hollow anymore. He could feel that vital muscle in his chest. For the first time in months, he could sense it's presence.

For the first time in months, he was _ready_ to use it.


	5. I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Addressing a large crowd was something that had slowly become second nature to Oliver. As his time as Mayor progressed, the nerves lessened any time he has to speak publicly. In spite of all of this, there was still something unnerving about the words he was about to speak. It wasn't the hundreds of eyes staring at him as he spoke, or the hundreds of thousands of ears listening in as he instated this Task Force into Star City. It wasn't the cameras flashing and clicking as he made his way to the podium.

This was his first major legislative move that he had made since he had first stepped foot in City Hall. Not only was he put the lives of twenty men and women on the line, but he had managed to piss off an entire police force in the process of doing so. As he took away funding and only furthered the distrust in the SCPD that was rampant among people in the city, the tensions were high between the chief of police and him. And there were radical supporters of police that were not happy with Oliver's attitude towards the people supposedly trying to protect the people.  
This enabled a cloud of doubt to form over his head and to rain self-deprecating notions that saturated his confidence in this decision.

So he looked out into the crowd before he spoke, feeling the eyes of contempt from some, but also seeing a familiar, and warm smile radiating in the midst of it all. She stood with her media lanyard hanging around her neck, dressed for the occasion. She didn't need a recording device or a notepad to keep a tab on what Oliver was going to say, because, well, she helped him write the words. But it wasn't just the words that she helped him with.

Oliver leans back into his desk chair, running his fingers through his hair as stress overcame him. He stares blankly at a document meant to be filled with his statement about the task forced yet still remained completely white. It was eleven o'clock and he was making his public address in a little under ten hours. He was nowhere near ready.

As he began to let himself wallow into this pit of feeling inadequate, he hears a knock on his office door. Before he can ask who it is, Kara peeks her head through the crack of the door with a cheeky smile plastered across her face. She walks through the door and holds up a cup of coffee, shaking it slightly as she displays it for Oliver.

"I figured you may need this," she tells him kindly as she sets it on his desk.

He raises an eyebrow as he reaches for the paper cup. "How did you even know I was here?"

"I was walking through town when I saw your office light on," she grimaces meekly before slowly backtracking her words. By the look on Oliver's face, she knew he wasn't buying her story. "And Thea might have texted me and told me you were still working."

Oliver shakes his head and lets out a weak chuckle. "You've been around for a week and you're already in communication with my sister."

"What?" Kara begins her line of defense. "She's the chief of staff and you brought me on as a consultant. Why wouldn't she need to be in communication with me?"

"That I get." Oliver places his elbows over his desk and intertwines his fingers together as he stares at Kara with a mocking contempt in his eyes a smirk forming slightly across his lips. "But I highly doubt the conversation that prompted you to bring me coffee had anything to do with your position here."

Kara folds her arms across her chest, pursing her lips as she glares at him with dissatisfaction. Her eyes motion towards the coffee sitting on his desk and her stare becomes pointed as she retorts, "So you don't want this?"

"Where in what I just said would you have come to that conclusion," Oliver jokes as he brings the cup to his mouth and takes a sip of it.

Kara shakes her head with a grin as she sits in the seat in front of his desk. The look on her face softens as she redirects the conversation. "In all honesty, she's just worried about you. She wanted me to make sure you were okay."

"She's always going to worry about me," Oliver says with honesty, garnering a nod from Kara. He smiles with genuine content as he tells her, "but thank you for coming anyways. I'm doing fine."

"I don't believe you," Kara says while crinkling her nose.

Oliver mocks her expression. "What makes you say that?"

"Anyone staring at a computer screen when it is nearly midnight is definitely not fine."

Oliver leans back into his leather chair once again, except this time with looser muscles and a calmer mind. There was something soothing about Kara's presence. Maybe it was the amiable aura she exuded or the cordiality that she always brought into the room. As happy he was that she brought him some fuel to burn the midnight oil, he was more grateful that she was sitting across from him. Few things could be more beneficial than that.

He sighs as he relents, letting his front down. "I have to write this address for tomorrow." He purses his lips as he tilts head to the side. "And it may come as a surprise to you but I'm not too great with words."

"Come on, Oliver," Kara begins assuringly. "If I've learned anything about writing, it becomes significantly easier if you just write whatever comes to your mind. You can dress it up after you finish it."

Oliver nods before responding with a chuckle. "What can I say that won't piss a group of people off?"

"You're always going to piss people off," Kara tells him bluntly. "But you're going to feel worse about it if you are guarded in your approach."

Oliver spent the rest of the night writing a few sentences and having Kara look over it, giving him ways to better the address and make it finer. It wasn't like the words did not exist in Oliver's mind. Kara had this way about her that set his thoughts in the right direction. It was like she knew how to clear the fog that clouded his mind. She made things simpler.

So as he stood there, ready to finally make his first notable move as Mayor, there was a significance in her standing amongst the crowd- again her presence bringing a calming sensation within him. It gave him drive, a confidence that resided in her looking upon him from a distance.

His words come out boldly and strongly. Oliver believes every word that escapes his lips and it was the most satisfying experience that he had in his short time as the leader of this city thus far. And he had Kara to thank for it.

And for her, well, she couldn't wait to tell him how well he did.

"Hey," Kara greets him with cordiality, a prideful gleam setting on her face as she makes eye contact with him. It wasn't necessarily the speech itself that he gave that produced that look of her's. It was the satisfaction on his face, even after he wasn't facing the crowd. It wasn't a look of confidence for show. When she looked at him, she could tell that he was fulfilled. "It's amazing what happens when you say what you want to say, isn't it?"

Oliver's cheeks dimple as the corners of his lips push them upward and he brings his attention to the ground for a moment. He shifts his hands into his pockets as he looks back at Kara brightly. "It felt pretty damned good."

"Interesting." Kara says with a joking haughtiness, prompting a hearty chuckle out of Oliver that makes her giggle on her own.

It was amazing to Kara, the difference she had started to see with Oliver in this week that they had started spending more time together. A lot of their first interactions, so much of his demeanor felt icy and reserved, only sometimes breaking slightly to soak in small portions of warmth she effortlessly gave off. But especially after their phone conversation Sunday, it's as if that exterior has began to melt. He was smiling a little more. His eyes actually gave off a subtle light, as opposed to the dim, empty gazes she often expected.

Not to say, however, that she still didn't feel as if there was a mile-thick wall that he kept with everyone around him. But it was comforting to her, that their interactions were slowly changing. And in this moment, she looked into his eyes and for the first time and saw someone who had belief in himself and the world around him.

It gave her hope. Hope that if a light could be instilled in Oliver's eye's, it could be instilled in the eyes of this darkened city. And anyone could start that fire— it would be Oliver Queen. And this hope— it was the richest she had felt for this city in years.

She let the thought form a smile on her face as she continued to admire Oliver's expressions as he shook people's hands and talked to the media— swagger and poise oozing from him as he did so. She let herself take some of the credit though. She gave him some pointers on composure and the desired demeanor for these kinds of interactions— because well, who better to give him tips on how to present himself to the media than the media herself?

But he was still confident and firm in his answers— and that was all him.

They both walked away, going up the stairs to the main wing of city hall. Sometimes it gave Kara a bout of humor thinking about how hesitant she used to be about walking in this place. Even her first interview with Oliver, she never fully felt comfortable here. But she's been fully accepted as a normal dweller of these halls in a short time, even if it's on a restricted basis. She gets smiles and waves as she walks by people as opposed to the harsh glares she once got.

She feels Oliver's eyes on her as they continue to walk through the halls and neared his office. "You know I hardly ever get greeted like that, right?"

"Surely not," Kara deflects as they walk into his office. "I mean they work for you."

Oliver s closes the door behind him. "You're much kinder than I am, Kara."

"My employees at the Inquirer would probably say otherwise," Kara jokes. "They'll get sick of me eventually."

Oliver shakes his head in disagreement. "You have a lot more approachable personality." He grins before finishing, "Plus your face is a lot prettier than mine."

"Don't sell yourself short," Kara begins with assurance. "I called you Mayor Pretty for a reason."

Oliver raises an eyebrow. "I thought it was because of the playboy narrative the media was so obsessed with pressing on me?"

"Well that was apart of it," Kara explains. She looks at him pointedly. "But it's not like you don't have one of the most notably 'pretty faces' in Star City."

Oliver laughs nervously. "Ah, what a confidence boost. I have the face of a well known pretty boy."

"That is not what I meant," Kara says coarsely. "My point is that if people based how they treated you on your looks, you'd be getting coffee brought to you every second of the day."

"So what you're saying is, you brought me coffee last night because I have a pretty face?"

"Yes. That is exactly what I did." Kara retorts blankly, playing along with Oliver's banter.

Oliver smirks. "Remind me to bring you coffee one day then."

They both continue to laugh for a moment, not taking their eyes off of one another. It was an odd sensation for Kara, as she rarely found herself in the comfort zone to be this flippant with anyone other than Alex. But there was something about conversing with Oliver that just made it easy. It was like one of the most basic forms of human connection in conversation that often became so muddled and complex and tense situations of anxiety and overwhelming awkwardness, was simplified to reacting to emotions and dynamics of their interactions.

"In all seriousness," he began, the sentiments of his expressions not changing as the audible humor dialed down. "People around here were automatically drawn to you. It's really been a pleasure having you around this week. You've been a tremendous help."

Content is smeared across Kara's face. Humbled, she responds, "I so desperately needed to get away from the Inquirer for a while. So really, the pleasure has been mine."

"What's going on at the Inquirer?"

Kara shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. "I told you about my publisher and our issues, right?" Oliver nods. "I just haven't really been able to shake the fact that I feel so constricted in my work there. And I just don't think I'm in the best possible position to drive change there."

"How do you mean constricted?" Oliver asks attentively.

Kara sits up, looking intently at Oliver as she explains. "I just mean that so much of the reporting that we do feels so shallow and I have to adhere to that. So many of my pieces I've thought were important have been rejected because they don't flow well with everything else."

"Don't you have some executive say so in what goes into the paper?"

Kara tilts her head side to side to signal somehow that he was only half correct. She continues, "I do. But I have to follow a lot of the standards set by my publisher. It's not necessarily completely up to me."

"Well I know one thing for sure," Oliver begins firmly. "This city will always listen to you, Kara. In whatever way that you decide to use your voice, they'll believe in what you have to say." He smiles. "I knew this long before I even met you."

Kara nods as her pursed lips push upwards into a unpretentious grin. "I just don't know how to use that voice right now, you know?"

"You'll find a way," Oliver assures her with a wink. "Is there any way for you to write and share independently? Like maybe through a blog or something?"

"I guess that's something I could look into," Kara begins, her tone tuning upwards as she realizes that tangibility of that idea. "I hadn't really considered that." Kara then begins to vocalize her thoughts stemming from this notion that Oliver suggested. They talk and he serves as a sounding board for her unfiltered thoughts.

She had a blog in college, it didn't serve as much other than an avenue for her to flesh out her desires to write, as being a business major didn't really allow her that opportunity very often. She explains this to Oliver, elaborating on how she eventually had to add a writing minor to be able to fulfill that need inside of her.

"So how'd you get into journalism then?" Oliver asks her attentively. "I figure it was easier to find a job in business."

"A lot of my electives were in media writing. Informative writing is what I enjoyed the most," she begins. "So I decided to go that route. I got an intern position right out of college and worked my way up from there. They liked my resume."

They continue to talk and Oliver slowly learns things about Kara that he did not know. Kara always felt slightly guarded with people, as she typically felt as if she had to keep an entire part of her life from others to the point where she never really elaborated on the more simpler parts of her life. It's why she had few companions outside of Alex, outside of the acquaintances she had made through work. But the interest that Oliver took in really getting to know her was something she hadn't really experienced form anyone not related to her.

Growing up was hard for her. She was trying to adjust to a new planet that was nothing like her home. It was behind in civilization. She was light years ahead of the kids in her classes in terms of what she knew about things like math and science. She adapted well to learning things like historical events and how to speak and write properly in English because she didn't have to worry about learning the other things. And she struggled socially, as she didn't know how to talk and communicate with other kids and other people.

This got a little better as she got older, as she slowly became adept to Earth and America's culture and was on par emotionally and mentally with people around her. But connecting with other adults in a deep manner was harder for her. She could have good discussion with others. She smiled at people she knew, waved at them, conversed well. But she never felt that deep connection with anyone other than Alex. Mostly because Alex was the one person with who she felt connected when she was younger. She knew who Kara was entirely, as Kara never shied away from talking about her life on Krypton with her. This only enriched as they both grew and matured.

So having someone like Oliver take such an interest in getting to know her, and her feeling as if she could let down a wall to him, was a new and welcome feeling. It scared her, quite frankly, as she knew that he couldn't know about her Kryptonian origins and there was a threshold for just how much he could learn about her and it didn't go much further. But treading these new waters was an exuberant feeling.

And Oliver listened to Kara with his utmost attention. Even though he wasn't as willing to open himself up to her in the way that she was him, he loved hearing her talk about her journey as a journalist. It put into perspective how she became the accomplished woman he saw in front of him and only elevated the passion and drive he already understood that she had.

And he was enthralled.

"So let me ask you this ," Oliver began, redirecting the conversation slightly. "If I wanted to take even more funding away from the police, where should I put it?"

Kara leans forward, resting her elbow along the top of the couch near Oliver's. She places her fingers over her lips as she goes into thought. "Well what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking maybe putting it towards recreation," Oliver begins. "Start rebuilding the city aesthetically and bringing more tourists in."

Kara furrows her eyebrows as she considered what he said. She grimaces before stating her opposing idea. "I don't really know if that should be your priority right now."

"What do you mean?"

Kara moves her hand from her face, motioning it for emphasis as she speaks. "I think you should try to focus on fixing it from the inside first. Maybe give more funds to the education system and strengthen it. That could bring young families in and begin rebuilding."

"But if we start to clean up the city, make it seem more hospitable, that could create jobs, maybe get some people out of poverty."

Kara nods in slight agreement. "As someone who spent a lot of time in the public school system in Star County though, it really needs the funding. Good schools bring in more people than you realize."

They pass ideas back and fourth, as for the first time they haven't really seen eye to eye on the issue they were discussing. It was respectful of course, but Kara came at it from a complete different perspective than Oliver. As someone who grew up in private schools, he didn't have a solid grasp on the difference between the privileged environment that he had been lucky enough to be in while Kara was able to come from the perspective of someone who had to flourish despite a broken education system.

But on the flip side, Oliver was coming at this from an economical standpoint and Kara understood this fully. He just wanted to create jobs and take an approach at fixing the glaring problem that was poverty in Star City— and that played into the drug and crime problems prevalent in the city. Kara pitched the idea that the two weren't necessarily mutually exclusive and better education could fix that issue— which was a point of view Oliver never considered.

Kara stops for a moment. "I do think that something could come out of pushing recreational change. Just maybe not with the police funding."

"The first step in that direction is going to be hiring a city manager first," Oliver says with a non-humored chuckle.

Kara nods. "That should be your next point of contention then. If I were you, I wouldn't even touch this funding until you hire someone."

"That's a good point," Oliver responds in agreement. He begins to make a suggestion regarding a candidate but is then interrupted by his office door flying open. A man with a warm, smiling face walks in with fast food in his hands. He opens his arms ready to embrace Oliver before he's even out of his seat on the couch.

"I just ran across the country to see you. So you better give me a hug—" Oliver widens his eyes as if the man had said something wrong. He purses his lips together and shakes his head. The man picks up on his non-verbal cues and begins to backtrack. He scoffs. "Obviously when I said 'ran' I meant flew. The plane was just going so fast-"

"Barry," Oliver clears his throat forcefully as he begins to walk towards him. He wants to be irritated by the fact that Barry interrupted a productive conversation between Kara and him- yet he could not deny the gladness he felt in seeing his good friend again. So instead of scolding him, he asks him as kindly as he can manage, "How did you get in here?"

"Your secretary told me you weren't busy so," Barry explains, biting his lip as he shows remorse across his face. "I can leave if it's a bad time-"

Kara immediately stands up to interject, noticing the obvious joy on the two men's face upon seeing one another. She didn't want to intrude on that. "We were just talking. It's not a bad time."

"Right," Oliver says as he opens his arms out to Barry, garnering a surprised and hesitant reaction from him. Oliver notices and looks at him questioningly before going in for an embrace. "Just give me a little warning next time."

Barry chuckles as he still has his arms around Oliver's shoulders. "If I knew it would take surprising you to get a hug from you, I'd have done it ages ago."

"Just this once," Oliver tells him half-jokingly, getting a hearty laugh from Barry as he walks back in Kara's direction. "Don't go on expecting this every time we see each other."

Barry grins, joy and mischief in his expressions as he responds. "Oh, I'm definitely just going to stop asking at this point."

"Are you like, anti-hugging or something?" Kara intrudes.

Barry nods exaggeratively. "It's not one of his finest qualities."

"You say that as if I didn't just hug you," Oliver responds defensively.

Barry glares at him knowingly. "Only because I asked you nicely."

"Kara," Oliver nearly yells, deliberately trying to redirect the conversation. "This is Barry Allen."

Kara smiles cordially as she reaches her hand out to greet him. "Kara Danvers— and I'm a big advocate for hugging."

"Nice to finally meet a fellow supporter." Barry teases. "So do you work for Oliver?"

Kara shakes her head. "I'm a temporary consultant. Just trying to give him some help while he's understaffed."

"She could probably do my job better than me," Oliver boasts, garnering a shy and modest grin from Kara. Barry takes notice of this and stares at the pair with inquisition, getting a neglecting look from Oliver. He then asks, "so what are you doing in Star City?"

Barry widens his eyes in the same way that Oliver did earlier when he nearly slipped up on his secret identity. Oliver took the cue that his business wasn't necessarily with Oliver Queen but with who he was on the streets. But Barry still answers shortly, with a fulfilling genuineness in his tone, "I came to see my friend of course."

"You're always welcome here, Barry." Oliver tells him as he starts to smile. "It is really good to see you."

Barry nods as he trades looks with Kara and Oliver. "I'm sorry I interrupted your conversation. You guys can finish up and I'll wait outside."

"No, it's not a big deal," Kara tells him, getting an agreeable expression from Oliver's face. "You guys talk. I probably need to get back to the Inquirer anyways." She then begins to grab her things from beside the couch she and Oliver were sitting on before rejoining the men on her way to the door. "It was nice meeting you, Barry."

Barry nods. "You too, Kara."

"Can you come back by later and we can finish our discussion?" Oliver asks her as he places his hand gently on her back.

She looks up at him with sincerity. "Yeah of course. I may just bring some of my work here later."

"Sounds good," Oliver tells her, a tenderness endearing his tone. He then follows closely behind as she walks to the door. "Thank you, Kara."

She smiles as she thinks back to her earlier conversation with him, turning her head to speak to him before walking out. "No problem. But I think it should be me thanking you."

Oliver furrows his eyebrows with a coy smirk on his lips as she turns her head to him once more with a smile before walking out of his line of sight. He chuckles and shakes his head, walking back into his office and feeling Barry's eyes glaring at him as he does so.

"You got something to tell me, Ollie?" Barry asks while smirking.

Oliver looks at him questioningly. "No?"

"You and her?"

Oliver rolls his eyes. "I've known Kara for hardly a month. I haven't even thought about her like that."

"Okay," Barry says, his tone alluding to the notion that he didn't believe a word that Oliver was saying. But Oliver wasn't telling him a fib. He had not even considered Kara to be anything more than a friend. Even the term friend felt loose, as they were just starting to really get to know each other.

Taking into consideration if there were any feelings of infatuation because well, there was no denying that he found her looks incredibly pleasing to the eye. She was beautiful. He would acknowledge this in a heartbeat. He did find himself drawn to her intelligence mostly, her grace, her kindness.

He couldn't open his heart up in this manner, however much he found himself drawn to her. Letting a wall down in the way he has for Kara thus far was a difficult enough bridge to cross. Laurel was still at the forefront of his mind. That part of his heart was closed off— and at least, for now, he never saw himself allowing that key out of its lock.

He must have been emoting his inner thoughts as the look on Barry's face became one of more concern.

"I know you're still grieving Laurel." Barry explains remorsefully. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Barry had been one of the people that Oliver really felt as if he could somewhat talk to since Laurel died, as he had been going through a similar grieving process as his father had been killed not long after she did. They were constantly in check with one another, sometimes texting affirming thoughts but mostly trying to keep their minds off the crippling anguish that they both felt.

If anyone was able to even tamper with the barrier that Oliver had put up around himself in this season of his life, it was Barry Allen.

So as Oliver knows the empathy and compassion that Barry was overwhelmingly great at expressing, he forces a smile onto his pressed lips to make sure that Barry knows he wasn't upset with him. "It's fine, really."

"I guess it was just nice to see you interacting well with someone else." Barry smiles. "I haven't seen that from you in a while."

Oliver nods. "It's been nice feeling like I can interact with someone again."

"Well, I'm here for a few days so," Barry begins cordially. He takes a comfortable seat spread across Oliver's couch. "I am here to listen to any spiels you need to get out."

Taking into consideration how Barry had been there for him throughout the last few months, Oliver was happy that this was the time that Barry decided to, well, run by. If Kara was the one to ignite that desire for human connection in Oliver, Barry was one of, if not the first person he wanted to reconnect with. So hearing these words from him was more than a delight.

Oliver chuckles before thinking back to the look Barry had given him earlier when he asked why he was in Star City. Oliver knew Barry well enough to know that he wouldn't run all of the way to the west coast on a whim.

If he came, it was always because either Oliver asked him to or need him to. They were both busy people. Barry was a CSI for the Central City Police Department while he wasn't running around as the masked superhero known as The Flash. He couldn't run 800 miles just to see a friend whenever he pleased.

So Oliver sensed a more urgent manner pressing his current presence here. He clears his throat to signal the change of tone he was going for, albeit wanting to catch up in a more casual manner. "Why are you here really?"

Barry sighs, sitting up and grabbing a manilla folder out of the brief he had been carrying on his shoulder. He pulled out a case file and held it out to Oliver.

"Do you remember when you came to Central City last year and helped me bust up that drug operation that had infiltrated CCPD?"

Oliver nods as he recalls, taking the files from Barry's hand. "The guys running it were all put in prison weren't they?"

"They were but. . ." Barry's voice trails off. "They were granted parole recently. The top guy was found dead two nights ago, as were two of his assailants."

"What does this have to do with you being in Star City though?" Oliver asks him.

Barry points to the line that explained how they were killed. Two were killed by arrows to the chest. The other, well, died from due to a throwing star wedged deep in his throat. Upon reading this, Oliver throws the files onto the floor.

"Does that sound familiar at all?" Barry asks knowingly.

"I busted up a weapons trade last week. The men that I apprehended were found dead. Same M.O." Oliver stands up abruptly, resting his forehead into his palm.

Barry stands up beside him, walking close to him as if to be discrete. "Do you think it's the same guy?"

"It has to be," Oliver replies quietly. He takes a deep sigh while lifting his head. "And I think he's trying to draw me out."

Barry looks towards the door and around the room, making sure no one can hear him as he asks, "so what are we going to do about it?"

"This clearly has to do with me, Barry. I don't want you getting dragged in." Oliver immediately regrets his words, knowing that he had just made a pact with himself to let people back in. Pushing Barry away at the first sign of danger wasn't taking a strong leap forward and he knew that.

Barry shakes his head with vigor and speaks sharply. "I did not run across the country to sit on the sidelines for this, Ollie. Let me help you. Please."

Something felt off about this killer the moment that Oliver received the news that he had murdered people that he had spared. And now, as he not only killed more criminals that Oliver allowed the right to due process to, but more than likely drew Barry to Star City for his own reasons- it filled him with more inquisition and worry that there was something bigger at play here. Someone had to have been pulling their strings.

And just as Oliver felt as if he was slowly getting his life put back together, it seemed as if someone was trying to rip it apart once again.

But one thing was for certain, he knew that he could not go about this alone. So accepting Barry's offer for help was a necessary first step. But there was also a need for someone else to come to his aid, and he knew that he would have to have an upfront and honest conversation with her. He needed Felicity- yet, something told him that she wouldn't need much convincing to help him upon asking.

As he opened his mouth to accept Barry's offer, his words were interrupted by the opening of his office doors. A man came in, urgency spread across his face as he made his way to Oliver.

"We officially now have a problem, Mayor Queen," the man begins, his voice seeping with worry. "This throwing star killer killed two innocent people last night."

As Oliver stands up, his eyes glaring at this person in inquisition as he tries to reason as to why this man had come into his office. And as he slowly made the connection back to the hiring process Thea and he had gone through last week, he realized who he was, and suddenly the concern was justified.

"Adrian Chase?" Oliver asks as he makes his way to the newly hired District Attorney.

Adrian nods. "Pleasure to finally meet you, sir."


End file.
